The hall was quiet after Mordred left, but his presence didn't leave the palace. It still lingered, like a rotten smell.
My father turned to me, his jaw tight, his eyes burning. He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice low but shaking with anger, "why did you accept? You don't have to. I will never allow it. I will go to war if I must, even if Valtheris burns. You are my daughter. I will not give you away to that monster."
His words hit me. For a moment I saw not the King of Valtheris, but my father — the man who once held me as a child, the wall who stood against every enemy.
He would destroy himself and destroy the kingdom if it meant saving me.
I met his eyes. My face stayed cold. My resolve did not move.
"I chose this, Father," I said. My voice did not shake. "This is my path. You cannot stop me."
His hands clenched, the veins rising in his skin. "You are my only daughter," he said, almost a growl. "I will tear down Dravon before I let them take you."
Inside, my chest stirred, but I crushed the feeling down. I could not let him see.
"I will not break, Father," I whispered. "Not to Mordred. Not to anyone. Trust me."
I have watched you crumble many times. I saw you die many times before me.
Does anyone know the pain of watching the same person you love, the same person who once carried me on his shoulders when I was little… the same person who held my small fingers and walked with me in the garden, smelling the flowers, showing me the rainbow in the sky?
Does anyone know how much your heart bleeds to see that same person die again and again, while you are forced to return to the past, only to watch the same gruesome scene over and over?
Not this time. Not now. Never again, Father. I will not let this happen.
"Father, before you are my father, you are the King of Valtheris."
"As a king, it is your duty not to let the kingdom fall because of your daughter."
I have seen it already. I have seen what happens when you raise the banners for me. The rivers filled with bodies.
Villages burnt to ash. I have seen children crying in the streets, clutching the hands of fathers who never woke again. I have seen mothers wailing over husbands who never came back from battle.
Because of me, thousands died. Because of me, the kingdom bled.
Not this time. Not again.
I would rather burn those men. I would rather set fire to the ones who led wars and took women as prizes than be their offering.
My words were cold, but my resolve burnt inside my heart.
My father's gaze stayed on me. In that moment, I knew — he was not looking at the Princess of Valtheris. He was looking at his only daughter.
In his eyes, I was still the child who held his finger and walked beside him.
But I had to remind him. "Father, you have your duty to your citizens."
His lips pressed tight. His eyes shone with tears, but he forced them down.
Cough… cough…
"You are right, Seraphina," he said at last, his voice rough. "I forgot. I forgot that before I am your father, I am the King of Valtheris. I saw only my daughter, the little girl I carried on my shoulders. I let that blind me."
He drew a breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. "A man can be two things — a father and a king. But in this hall, I must be king. My heart as a father wanted to protect you, even if the kingdom burnt. But my duty as king cannot allow it."
His shoulders sank as the words left him, like a weight pressed harder now that he admitted it.
"You have grown, Seraphina. You see clearer than I do."
"You have grown, Seraphina. You see clearer than I do."
He put his hand on my head, a small smile breaking through his tired face. His fingers brushed my hair, shaking it a little like he used to when I was a child.
"Father… no. "King of Valtheris," I said, lifting my chin. "I am Seraphina Valtheris, Princess of this kingdom. I will not bow to that filthy prince. Not now, not ever."
"Trust in me. I am your daughter. The blood of the great mage of Valtheris runs in my veins. You raised me, and I carry your strength. Do not think I will break."
"I will not run from my duty. I will not shame my crown. If I must bleed, I will bleed as the Princess of Valtheris. But I will never kneel."
My chin was up, and I could see the pride in my father's eyes.
He patted my head again, the same way he used to when I was small.
My resolve was as clear as steel.
I will never kneel in front of that disgusting prince.
I will never kneel to any filthy man.
I would rather die.
I would rather be reborn and hunt them again and again and again.
Until this curse ends, I will make it my greatest strength.
Every death had taught me one thing: I could come back.
If coming back meant I could learn, plan, and strike, then I would use it.
Their greed, their wars, and their voices would fuel me.
I would turn this curse into vines and climb them until I reached the men who thought they owned the world.
I left the hall and walked toward my room. My steps were heavy, my fist clenched tight at my side.
I was angry. The anger burnt through my chest like fire, each breath sharper than the last.
It was not because of Mordred. It was not because of Kaelen.
It was because of those servants, whispering in the garden when they thought no one was listening.
"Did you see her? Princess Seraphina, lowering her head like that."
A second voice giggled, sharper than glass. "Princess? No. She's just a concubine-in-waiting. Mordred will use her, then toss her aside when he's bored. Just another toy for his bed."
"Did you see her? The princess sold herself—a real whore for gold."
"Gold-digger, that's what she is. She's already bought and paid for."
"Princess or prostitute? Same thing once she steps into Dravon's bed."
Their words crawled under my skin, burning.
I clenched my fist so tight my nails bit into my palm, but I didn't let my face change. Not one twitch.
But inside?
Inside I boiled.