Orig 's grandfather, seated in his wheelchair, clenched his only functional hand into a fist. Fury boiled inside him, but there was nothing he could do. This woman was the most detestable creature he had ever encountered in his life. He was only now learning that Lucy had been the one to kill his son, something that left him reeling. Yet, despite his rage, he couldn't ignore his own mistakes. He had denied Dolio the throne not out of malice but because of tradition. The crown, he believed, could only be worn by someone of royal lineage or, at the very least, noble blood. Lucy's son, in his eyes, was unworthy.
The oppressive silence in the room was broken by the sound of loud applause. Lucy turned sharply, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Meral entering the chamber. Meral's steps were confident, her presence audacious as if she were immune to the dangers of confronting someone as ruthless as Lucy.
