Aurelia Delensar awoke with a start, her scream echoing through the room as she bolted upright in bed. Her chest heaved, her crimson eyes wide with terror and fear. The cold, unyielding grip of the dagger’s hilt still lingered on her fingers, the memory of warm blood splattering her face and the metallic tang of it in the air refusing to fade.
“...”
Outside, the cheerful chirping of birds and the soft, golden light of autumn filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. Aurelia slowly came to her senses, her gaze darting around the room. She was back. This was her room.
The princess stared down at her trembling hands, her fingers curling slightly before shaking violently. She had done it. She had plunged a dagger into Caelum’s heart. Raised in luxury, Aurelia
