The dungeon door groaned open. He stood there, looming in the light, looking at me as if this were all my fault. Where was his soul? It was too late to ask.
"Iris Regulus, your time has come," he said coldly. "Let us proceed."
If the gag wasn't stuffed in my mouth, I would have cursed that asshole to his face. He knows I hate him with every fiber of my being, yet he still comes to collect me. Before I could strike at the Royal Knight, his men grabbed me.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" I tried to scream, but it came out as a muffled grunt.
They dragged me from the dark and threw me onto the cold stone of the throne room. My knees cracked against the floor, skin tearing, but I didn't care about the pain. I cared about them.
Arwin. The "Strongest Swordsman." And standing beside him? Her. Ishu. The girl I pitied, the girl I took under my wing, only to be stabbed in the back.
Not far away stood Kaelus Regulus, the most powerful Duke in the kingdom. His long white hair marked our lineage. He was the Duke—and he was my father. My eyes met his, but as always, they were emotionless. How could he? Was loyalty to the crown more important than his own daughter?
"Iris Regulus," a voice boomed. "You have committed a grave crime. We overlooked your past sins because of your status, but you dared to attempt the murder of the God Child?"
I never did that! I thrashed against my chains, heart hammering. I admitted to my past, but this? This was a lie.
"Take the gag off," Ishu said, her voice sweet and fake. "It seems she wants to say something."
"Do as the Priestess says," my father commanded.
As the knight pulled the rag away, my anger boiled over. "Arwin! You bastard! How dare you put me here? You think you can replace me with her?"
Ishu stepped forward, cutting me off. "We are already engaged."
The world shattered. "B-but..." I looked at Arwin, waiting for him to deny it. He stayed silent. He didn't even look at me.
"Arwin, listen to me!" I screamed. "Don't marry that witch! She's not the Priest—"
Schwing.
Cold steel pressed against my neck. I looked up. My father was pointing his sword at me.
"Iris, enough," he said. "If you have no proof, keep your mouth shut. It will only bring more trouble."
"Father..." I whispered. The sword didn't hurt as much as his eyes. "I took everything they threw at me... but you? Why do you believe them? Am I nothing to you?"
He began to speak, but I was done. If they didn't want me, I would be gone. Before anyone could move, I leaned...