(READER DISCRETION ADVISED: The following content may contain mature themes, graphic violence, or disturbing subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.)
Mateo lay sprawled on the cold marble floor of the grand hall, the blood from his wound spreading like a dark halo around him. "Ah—" His breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, each one shorter than the last as his life slipped away. His once-proud figure, tall and imposing, was now reduced to a trembling shadow of fear and helplessness.
The mighty prince of Azro, who had once been untouchable in his wealth and power, was now utterly defeated. His eyes, wide with shock, stared blankly up at the ornately painted ceiling, the sounds of chaos and panic around him becoming a distant hum as his senses dulled.
Blood seeped from the deep wound Lila had carved into his chest with her pocket knife—a simple yet precise action, delivered with the precision of someone who had waited too long for this moment. The knife had pierced his heart, just as Mateo had once tried to pierce hers, with his lies, manipulation, and betrayal. The crimson stain on his chest mirrored the one that now covered the marble floor beneath him.
Lila stood over Mateo, her tall frame casting a dark shadow across his dying body. Her eyes, once filled with pain and despair, now gleamed with something else—satisfaction. For years, she had endured Mateo's schemes, his obsession with controlling her and making her his possession. She had tolerated the forced engagement, the poisonous words whispered behind her back, and the twisted games he had played with her life. But now, all of that was over.
This was the end of Mateo's reign of terror.
The once-grand hall, adorned with golden pillars and luxurious tapestries, had become a grisly scene of death and destruction. Across the room, Emperor Leon and Empress Pauline lay slumped on their thrones, their lives snatched away in an instant by the lethal arrows that had struck them down. Their once-powerful empire was now crumbling around them, a consequence of the deadly plot they had played a role in. It was a bloody, brutal end for the royal family of Azro.
Lila's gaze flickered from Mateo's trembling body to the guests who had gathered for their ill-fated wedding. They remained frozen in their seats, their faces pale with shock and horror as the weight of what had just occurred sunk in. No one dared to move, too stunned to process the carnage unfolding before them.
Lila took a step closer to Mateo, her cold, unfeeling eyes fixed on his pitiful figure. She knelt down beside him, her voice a low whisper that cut through the air like a blade.
"An eye for an eye, Mateo," she murmured, her words dripping with venom. "Everything you did—every lie, every manipulation, every betrayal—it's all come back to you now."
Mateo's lips twitched as if he were trying to speak, but no words came out. His strength was fading fast, and the weight of his impending death bore down on him like a crushing force. His once-brilliant eyes, now clouded with pain and desperation, flickered with something he had never felt before—genuine fear. For all his plotting, he had never imagined it would end like this.
Lila's cold laughter filled the hall, a sound so chilling that it sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it. It was a laugh of liberation, of victory. She had endured years of suffering, of being manipulated and controlled by Mateo. And now, finally, she was free.
The palace guards rushed toward her, their faces pale as they drew their weapons. They had witnessed the murder of their prince and the royal couple. Arresting her for the crime was their only response to the chaos that had unfolded. Yet, despite the guards closing in on her, Lila remained calm, composed. Not a single flicker of fear crossed her face as they grabbed her arms, their grip tight and unyielding.
As they dragged her toward the high priest, who had stood frozen in place throughout the entire ordeal, Lila lifted her chin, her voice cutting through the tension like a sharp blade.
"Now that I've agreed to the vow," she said, her tone steady and unwavering, "High Priest, what's my status?"
The high priest, visibly shaken by the bloodshed and violence that had torn through the wedding, hesitated. His eyes darted between Mateo, who was now on the verge of death, the bodies of the emperor and empress, and the woman who had stood tall through it all. Lila's question hung in the air, and the room fell into an eerie silence, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the priest's response.
Finally, with a grave expression that matched the severity of the situation, the high priest spoke in a voice that echoed through the hall:
"You are the Empress of the Southern Empire Azro."
The weight of his words settled over the room like a heavy fog. The guards, who had been holding Lila tightly, loosened their grip, unsure how to proceed now that they were standing before the newly crowned Empress. Their expressions were filled with uncertainty, not knowing if they should treat her as a criminal or a sovereign.
Lila smirked, the corner of her lips curling upward as she looked down at Mateo one last time. The once-powerful prince, now reduced to a broken, blood-stained figure, lay helpless at her feet, gasping for what little life he had left.
"Empress," she whispered to herself, tasting the word on her lips. It was a title she had never wanted but now owned with pride. This was her victory, a victory she had earned through the blood and betrayal that had defined her path.
"Say it again," she demanded, her eyes locking with his. "Tell them what my status is now."
The high priest, still visibly shaken, swallowed hard. His hands trembled as he clutched the ceremonial book close to his chest. For a moment, it seemed as if he might falter, the weight of the bloodshed too much for him to bear. But as Lila's gaze bore into him, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.
"You are the Empress of Azro," he repeated, his voice firmer this time, louder, so that all those gathered could hear. The title echoed through the hall, carried on the weight of the blood-soaked air. Lila's smirk widened, but she wasn't satisfied just yet. She waited, the room holding its collective breath.
The high priest hesitated for only a second before he added the final words, his voice shaking but clear.
"Long Live, the Queen!"
The hall erupted in stunned silence. The declaration hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The guards looked to one another, their uncertainty growing as the realization sunk in. Despite the bloodshed, despite the chaos that had just unfolded, Lila Elara of Montgrave was now the ruler of Azro.
"Long Live, the Queen!" one of the guests dared to echo, their voice trembling with fear and awe. Slowly, others followed, until the room was filled with murmurs of the same words. It was not the grand coronation Lila had ever envisioned for herself, but it was a victory nonetheless. She had clawed her way to power through fire and blood, and now, she stood as the ruler of the very empire that had sought to control her.
Lila's smile turned colder as she glanced down at Mateo, his eyes still wide with shock and pain. His lips trembled as he tried to speak, but it was too late. The power he had lusted after was no longer his to take.
"Long Live, the Queen," Lila whispered to herself, the words now her own.
She had won.