Mathias stared at her for a few, suffocating seconds—his gaze a mixture of horror and absolute loathing—before he turned on his heel and walked out, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the hollow chambers of the palace.
The moment the latch clicked, the stone mask Talia had worn for decades finally crumbled.
A choked, jagged sob tore from her throat as tears began to fall—not like a lady's quiet weeping, but like a dam breaking, a silent waterfall of grief and madness. She lifted her frail, trembling hands, staring at her palms as if the blood of the servants and her father were still wet upon them.
"I killed them all..." she whispered, her voice cracking into a raw, pathetic sound. "I slaughtered everyone I knew for the man I loved... and in the end, he left me. He left me in this tomb."
She clutched her chest, her fingers clawing at the silk of her nightgown.
