Chloe’s p.o.v.
The weight of exhaustion pressed against my bones, but the storm in my father’s eyes burned brighter than the pain I felt. His voice was a blade, sharp and unyielding as it echoed through the chamber.
“This ritual is over.” Silence followed his decree, covering the whole chamber like a thick fog. The court elders stood frozen, their faces paling as the full weight of his fury bore down on them.
My father lifted his chin, the air around him cold and suffocating. “You have committed treason against the royal bloodline. You have tortured my daughter under the guise of righteousness.” His gaze swept over the crowd, his next words a death sentence. “Anyone who dares to lay a hand on her again—anyone—will answer to me with their lives.”
The sound of the people taking in a deep
