" You shall know your place tonight, little sister…." With a cruel expression on his face, the prince let out a wicked chuckle before speaking in a menacing tone.
As Tuile's eyes darted towards the wide-open gate, a glimmer of hope sparked within her. Without a second thought, she made a break for it, but her fleeting moment of freedom was abruptly halted by a firm grip on her wrist. It was a man, his features stern and unyielding as he held her firmly in place and thrown against the wall.
The prince held the gleaming sword in his hand, its weight feeling reassuringly heavy. He gazed at his own reflection in the polished blade, admiring the sharpness of the edge and the intricate designs etched into the metal.
" How fast do you think you can you heal?" he questioned.
As she backed against the wall, the prince approached with his sword, pressing it against her cheek and snickering.
