"Take her away."
Kian's voice cut through the tension like a blade dipped in ice.
For a moment, Zara just… froze.
Like the words hadn't registered. Like she genuinely thought she had misheard him.
Then realization hit.
Her lips parted in disbelief. A nervous, broken little laugh bubbled out. "Wha…?"
She took a shaky step forward, eyes searching his face, looking for—what? Mercy? Regret? A sign that this was all a joke?
She found nothing.
"I'm sorry, Kian," she whispered.
Then—she dropped.
Right onto her knees.
With trembling hands, she clutched at his feet, her fingers digging in desperately. "Don't hate me more, please," she begged, voice breaking into sobs so raw that even a few villagers shifted uneasily.
A tragic sight.
A woman who had once held her head high, now reduced to this.
But Kian?
His expression didn't flicker.
Not an inch. Not even the tiniest hint of hesitation.
"I said, take her away."
This time, his tone was even colder. Colder.
