Branch's face twisted. "Monarch? Did you just spout out the word 'Monarch'?"
His dead gaze fixed on hers. "You want to tell me a mere brat became a monarch because of what? The power of love?"
He clenched his jaw. "Yeah, fuck that."
His eyes flared anew. "I fought for hundreds of years before I could even become a monarch. That bastard, God, started this whole mess."
He twisted his gun, taking a step forward. "After he was done, he went and died. Oh, the righteous hero! Fuck him, and fuck you too!"
"All I wanted was to live a peaceful life without doing a single chore, but everyone just made me do one task after another."
He pointed one of the pistols at her. "And now you're telling me all those days I couldn't spend lazing around were closed up by a brat."
The gun dropped to the ground with a soft click.
Branch glared at her, then ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back, his eyes glowing purple.
