Loreen's POV
Loreen felt the shift immediately. His father's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as something sharp and dangerous rose to the surface.
"I said I am fine," the king repeated, his voice dangerously lower now.
Greta should have sensed she was treading on dangerous ground, but she did not stop.
"You are not," she insisted. "You are breaking, Markus. And if you keep this up, you will lose everything before the illness even takes you."
Silence.
Then—
"Get out!"
The shout came sudden and loud, cutting through the room, even though Loreen had expected it.
He flinched slightly as his father's control snapped. The anger came fast this time, stronger than before. He reached for the nearest object and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall.
Another followed.
And another.
The room erupted into chaos again.
Greta froze for a brief second, shock flashing across her face as she took several steps backwards.
