"No, I can't do it. She's my sister," Richard muttered to himself, trying to fight off the voices.
But the whispers didn't stop. They continued to chant, urging him to take action. Richard slammed his hand on the table beside Beatrice's bed, the sound of the impact echoing through the room.
"Enough!" he roared, his voice filled with frustration and despair. "I can't take it anymore! I won't do it! I won't kill my sister!"
The room fell silent as Richard collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his mother, her face filled with disappointment.
"You're weak, Richard. You'll never be a true Duke if you can't make the tough decisions," she spat, her words cutting like a knife.
Richard was startled seeing her mother figure, but the figure suddenly disappeared. It was just his imagination. But still, it makes him go crazy.
