Rhistel gasped for air, one hand clawing at his throat as his knees hit the cold stone floor. The pressure inside his chest had come out of nowhere like an invisible grip tightening around his lungs, stealing his breath, he felt like choking but there was no hand on his windpipe.
Olivia stood tall above him, her face impassive. But inside, her heart pounded like a war drum. She hadn't meant to strike him so hard, hadn't even known she could. She wanted to scare him enough so that he did not use her as a plaything. She didn't even know why he was getting married or Oriana.
He looked up at her in horror, eyes wide, mouth parted in disbelief. "Wh… what did you do…?"
She smirked, stepping closer, her boots clicking softly on the stone. She didn't show the tremble in her fingers or the guilt that clawed at the back of her throat. If she faltered now. If he was not scared enough, she'd lose the only leverage she had.
She did not speak but her eyes closed and her fingers snapped.
