The hall fell silent after his words.
My father's jaw clenched, but he did not speak yet.
My mother lifted her face. She did not hide behind softness now. Her voice carried the weight of the Queen of Valtheris.
"Prince Mordred," she said. "You speak boldly in our hall. To treat my daughter like a prize, as if she were yours to take… do you think Valtheris so low?"
Her tone was calm, but sharp, breaking through Mordred's smug grin.
I stood still beside my father, but I couldn't believe what my mother said.
In all my previous lives, I had never seen her speak like that. Never so harsh, never so strong.
And now she took the stand just for my sake?
My heart moved at her words. What was this feeling? I couldn't point it out. I had long forgotten how to feel the warmth of it.
Mordred's golden eyes moved to my mother. For the first time, his grin faltered, even if only for a moment.
But I saw it — how his pride was hurt by my mother's voice. His fist clenched, and his teeth ground together.
At her words, the two knights at his side flinched. Their hands went to their hilts, ready to draw. They could not bear to hear their prince mocked in another's hall.
"My, my, do not be so blunt in the face of a queen. Even if this is a small kingdom, she is still a queen." His voice was smooth and polite, but I could hear the mockery in it.
Then, just as quick, he pulled the grin back onto his face, as if nothing had touched him.
"Hah… the Queen of Valtheris," he said, his tone smooth but mocking. "Even your words carry fire. No wonder the princess has such spirit. It must run in the family."
His golden eyes gleamed as he spoke. It sounded like respect, but I knew what he meant. To him, Valtheris was nothing but a fly he could slap and destroy any time he wished.
Then his voice rose, no longer smooth, no longer polite. It boomed across the hall like a challenge.
"King Aurelius Valtheris!" he called, his golden eyes gleaming. "So tell me — are you ready to drag your kingdom into war? Or will you give your daughter's hand, and keep peace in your land? What will you choose?"
The grin was gone. His words carried only boldness, sharp and heavy, daring my father to answer.
My head turned, and I could see the worry in my father's eyes. His fist was tight, and I could almost hear his heart beating faster.
My father wanted to scream no, to throw the prince into the pit of death. But he couldn't do it.
I could see it — he was helpless, powerless. Even if he was the great magician of Valtheris, the wall that guarded the kingdom… even walls cannot stand when the ground beneath them shakes.
There was only silence. My father was without any word.
I clenched my fist. Why? Why? I asked myself the same question again and again.
Why was I so helpless? Why could I not do anything here?
It was the same in every life. No matter what I tried, no matter what I changed, the curse dragged me back. Again and again, I died. Again and again, I was powerless.
And now, standing in front of me was not the Prince of War, but the Prince of Greed. Same fate but different man.
Why was it always men in power who thought women were toys for them?
Something they could claim simply because they wanted to.
I had seen it in every loop. Kings, princes, generals, lords. Their crowns might change, their banners might be different, but their eyes were the same. Cold. Greedy.
They looked at women not as people, but as prizes to display, tools to use, or chains to tie kingdoms together.
In this cursed world, women were never daughters or wives. They were land. They were coin. They were the trophies of war.
How many times had peace been sealed by handing a woman over to the enemy? How many times had blood been stopped by turning a daughter into an offering?
Was this the law of the world? Was this the order the gods wrote into it?
Or was it all just rot, festering from the start?
Sometimes I thought it was not me who was cursed, but the whole world itself. A world where war was glory, but women were spoils. A world where power was measured by how many lives you could destroy.
And if that was true… then this world was already damned. A world like this deserved to be broken. A world like this needed to be purified.
If no one else would do it, then I would.
Not just for myself. Not just for one life or one curse.
But for all the women who were given away like prizes. For every daughter who was traded for land, every wife who was treated like coin.
All the men who saw women as toys, who thought power gave them the right to take what they wanted — one day, they would pay.
I swore it inside me. If the curse bound me to this world again and again, then I would use it. I would break this rotten world, even if I had to tear it apart with my own hands.
I stepped forward and accepted the marriage proposal between the two lands.
It was not because I gave up.
It was my resolve — to walk into the lion's den and hunt the lion in his own game, in his own jungle.
I lifted my chin, my eyes locking with Mordred's golden gaze.
"Prince Mordred," I said. "I accept your marriage proposal."
My father gasped, his eyes wide with shock. My mother's lips parted, and her eyes turned toward me, staring at me in disbelief.
But I didn't waver, even as I trembled with the decision I made. My eyes stayed on him, staring straight at Mordred.
But then, suddenly, the moment my words left my lips — "I accept your marriage proposal" — the hall vanished.