"So you're telling me you're a princess?" I scoffed, disbelief lacing my voice.
"I am," she asserted, puffing out her chest in a display of regal defiance. Her fiery pink hair, usually meticulously styled, was now a tangled mess, dusted with debris from the wrecked room. The remnants clung to the strands like a rebellious phase.
"...tch, alright," I muttered, trying to process this bizarre situation. "Let me get this straight. You claim your name is Emily Kingscrown, correct?"
"Hmm," she confirmed with a curt nod, her earlier confidence faltering slightly under my scrutiny.
"And you were supposedly my fiancee before I was... banished from the noble house?" I finished, the last word tasting bitter on my tongue.
"Yes," she said again, though a flicker of discomfort played at the corners of her lips, betraying the ease with which the words rolled off her tongue.
