Alina's POV
I stared at Princess Phina, dumbfounded. My father was everything, but not a murderer. My throat felt dry as I closed my eyes briefly.
Her words kept playing in my head as I reached over to grab the pictures. The entire room had gone silent, but I didn't even care about them.
I wanted to scream at Princess Phina, tell her she was lying, that she was trying to turn me against my father. But the pictures looked so real. Mom was lying on the floor, tears filling her eyes, and Dad knelt in front of her, his dagger just above her chest.
The next photo showed the moment he stabbed her. My hands, which were holding the picture, clenched into fists as I stared at Princess Phina.
"No. This looks fake. He would never do this to her," I said firmly. The pitiful look I had earlier had disappeared. If I showed her I was frightened and my trust was slowly disappearing, she would try to manipulate me more.
