"His Majesty is planning to take her out."
Archen's words kept echoing in my head.
My gaze drifted from His Majesty's face to his blood-streaming hands to the figure lying on the ground behind him.
The figure lay on the carpeted floor of the office, unmoved, a pool of blood tracing her. Blue, shiny hair that went undistinguished due to the red surrounding it.
"Nanny…?"
I was great at holding in my emotions.
When my hands bled from swordsmanship lessons when I was six, I didn't cry.
When Miya, the stray cat I had taken in died when I was ten, I didn't cry.
When I was poisoned by the very person I called 'Mother' and it felt like my whole life was a lie, I didn't cry.
I would like to think it was because I held my emotions well.
But, thinking back to it, I was able to do so because I had my nanny cry for me.
For the first time since I can remember, tears began flowing from my eyes.
"Nanny!"
