Draven's gaze hardened as Adela looked down at him with a smile.
"It's my bad, Your Highness," she remarked casually, her tone laced with disdain.
"Can you get up on your own? If not, I will tell someone to help you."
Without a word, Adela turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving Draven seething with rage and frustration.
"Damn it!" he shouted, lashing out in a fit of anger as he kicked a nearby table.
Two men entered the chamber, concern etched on their faces as they approached their king. "My king, are you okay? What happened?" they inquired, their voices filled with genuine worry.
Draven's eyes blazed with fury as he stood up, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. Without hesitation, he drew the blade and, with a swift slash, cut down the two men before they could react.
Gasping for breath, Draven's eyes turned red with rage as he whispered Adela's name like a curse.
