"...You're. Insane." She hissed. "Do you really think I'm so weak that I won't do it?"
Donncahd scoffed. "Princess Airie, throwing away her life for a child she doesn't know? You must think I'm a fool to think I'd believe you." His expression was twisted with cruel amusement.
"I'm serious. If you don't-"
"Then do it." He pointed to the assassin's blade on the ground. "Kill me and spare that girl's life at the cost of your own."
She stopped short, eyes on the knife.
It was a small blade. Less than the length of her forearm.
It had been left behind by the assassin in the struggle. Likely when the medic arrived and extracted it from him, it must have been tossed aside.
It lay there on the floor, discarded, like so many lives.
"I-..."
The prince laughed.
It was a cold, cruel sound.
And.
Something in her... Snapped.
