"Let me do it," he said.
The words were soft, barely carrying, yet they sliced through the dungeon's damp silence like a slow-drawn blade.
I snarled before I could catch myself. "I won't drink it."
My voice echoed—too sharp, brittle as glass. I hated that it trembled. I hated that he noticed it.
He tilted his head, watching me the way a scholar might study a dying flame. A smile ghosted his lips—not cruel, not kind, just... hungry.
"Such fire," he murmured. "How… delightful."
His golden eyes shimmered with a heavy, ancient amusement. Behind him, a tail curled lazily, scales catching the torchlight like molten gold. He didn't look at the goblet. He looked only at me, like I was the only interesting thing in a room full of ghosts.
"You don't have to drink it, little princess," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not all at once."
The knights shifted, armor clanking. My servants held their breath. Even the stone walls seemed to lean in, eavesdropping.
He took a step closer.
The air grew heavy, thick with a heat that didn't belong in a cellar. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird in a cage. As he lifted the goblet with ceremonial grace, the liquid inside pulsed. It wasn't just glowing; it throbbed with a rhythmic, deliberate light—as if it recognized me. As if it were calling me home.
I stumbled back, my heel catching on the uneven stone. "Don't," I breathed.
His smile sharpened. "But tell me," he said, his tone turning casual, as if we were discussing the weather, "when you screamed in your sleep last night…"
The air left my lungs.
"…was it for your parents?"
The dungeon vanished.
The stone walls were replaced by the memory of fire. I saw my father again, blood darkening his silver plate as he barked orders to seal the gates. I saw my mother, radiant even as the light left her eyes, her final blessing drowned out by the scream of steel. I smelled the jasmine of our gardens choking under the stench of smoke. My people—the baker who gave me extra sweets, the children who played in the fountains—dragged through the streets of a kingdom the Moon Goddess had abandoned.
Silver towers were now charcoal. White streets were stained rust-red.
"…or was it for the crown you'll never wear again?"
The words hit me harder than a physical blow. Something inside me—the last cord holding me together—snapped.
"You don't get to speak of them," I hissed, the words tasting like bile. "You took everything."
He paused. For the first time, the amusement flickered out. His eyes went dark, filled with something colder than spite.
"Took?" he repeated. "No, Luna of the fallen crown. War doesn't take. It replaces."
He leaned in so close I could feel the unnatural heat radiating from his skin. Fear and fury tangled in my gut, hot and sickening.
"Drink," he said. It wasn't a command; it was a promise of the inevitable. "Or don't. Either way, the girl you were is already dead."
His gaze softened, which was somehow more terrifying than his anger.
"What matters now," he whispered, "is what you choose to become."
Staring into the eyes of a monster wearing a child's skin, I finally understood. This wasn't an execution. It was a dare.
The faces of the dead flashed behind my eyes—a gallery of ghosts demanding an answer. He expected me to break. He expected me to wither.
I looked straight into him, past the gold and the scales, until I saw the void beneath. I didn't hide the tremor in my hands; I just let it turn into a grip.
"I won't surrender," I said, the words finally finding their floor. "And I will never belong to you."
For a heartbeat, his composure slipped. Curiosity deepened into a sharp, jagged respect.
He tilted the goblet toward me, the crimson liquid swirling like a trapped sunset. "Then you will be tested. War does not forgive hesitation."
Before the knights could blink, my fingers closed around the jagged edge of the teleportation crystal hidden in my sleeve. I didn't wait. I didn't look back.
Moonlight flared—cold, blinding, and violent. The dungeon tore apart into streaks of silver and shadow. The last thing I saw was the golden glint of his eyes. Then, the world went quiet.