As the heated exchange with the captive assassin in the dungeon continued, frustration welled up within me. His accusations and refusal to provide answers grated on my nerves.
"Do you have no sense? If you do, then tell me, how could I be supposed to bring your dead brother? And why would I, Duchess Bernice, be blamed for your brother's death when he was sent to assassinate me but died while trying to kill me!" I exclaimed, my patience wearing thin as I sought clarity.
But the assassin remained resolute in his conviction. "No! He didn't kill himself. He would never kill himself, I know that. You are the one who killed him. You are the reason behind his death, and now you're trying to lie to me," he retorted, his anger blazing.
"Why would I lie? What benefit would there be for me in lying to you?" I questioned, my voice tinged with exasperation as I crossed my arms, my frustration evident.
