“Me?”
The word slips out before I can stop it—sharp, disbelieving, almost mocking—as I rise slowly to my full height. I drag the edge of my blade against my dress, wiping away the blood as though this entire situation weren't already absurd enough.
Every muscle in my body protests after the fight, but I ignore it. The sting, the exhaustion, the lingering weakness—they all fade beneath the weight of this moment.
Because suddenly… everyone is looking at me. I feel it. Their gazes press into my skin—heavy, expectant, burning.
Watching. Waiting.
For a reaction.
A command.
A submission.
Or maybe… that’s just in my head.
Maybe I’ve just been surrounded by too many people who expect me to bow.
Either way, it irritates me.
A dry scoff escapes my lips. I brush a strand of hair from my fa
