"There's no way you can face and serve the man who slaughtered your father like a dog."
Annica's heart seemed to stop hearing what Daemond had just said.
He knew!
About everything.
About her father.
About who she was.
He even knew about his hatred.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence echoing loudly around the dark room. Then a hoarse, faint voice was heard.
"H-how could you know? S-since when?" Annica asked.
Daemond released his grip from Annica's face and stood up. He picked up Annica's dress from the floor and put it back on the girl's body. With slow and patient movement, Daemond slipped the dress over Annica's head, put her arms through the sleeves, and tied back the corsage holding the dress to keep it in place.
