When the light faded, Azaroth fell to one knee, blood pouring from a deep wound in his side. His once imposing figure seemed smaller, diminished. The ground beneath him was stained with his blood.
Arthur lowered his sword, his chest heaving with exhaustion. "It's over," he said, his voice filled with triumphant relief. But Lily wasn't listening.
Azaroth's gaze found hers one last time, his black eyes softened by a final, fleeting emotion. There were no words exchanged, but in that look, everything became clear to her. He had known. He had known all along that she loved him. And in that quiet, heartbreaking smile he gave her, she saw that he had felt the same. He was sorry—sorry that he couldn't hear her out, sorry that he had lost, sorry that he couldn't stay with her.
Lily's breath caught in her throat. The truth of it crashed into her like a wave, stealing the air from her lungs. He loved her. He loved her, and now he was gone.
She ran across the crumbling throne room, ignoring the falling stones and the chaos around her, reaching Azaroth as his body began to slump. She knelt beside him, pulling him into her arms. His blood soaked into her hands, smearing her face as she tried to wipe away her tears, but they kept falling, faster and faster.
"No..." Lily whispered, her voice trembling with grief. The cold breeze swept through the shattered room, her golden hair fluttered. "Oh. It was …so cold" For the first time since she fled her kingdom, she felt true, suffocating loss. The world blurred around her, and her heart shattered into pieces. Azaroth was gone—taken from her. And she couldn't do anything to stop it.
"You... you've destroyed everything," she whispered, barely able to speak, her voice filled with bitterness. But Arthur didn't hear her. He was too busy basking in his victory, oblivious to the devastation he had caused.
Lily's grief twisted into something darker, something more dangerous. Rage coiled inside her, simmering beneath the surface, but she swallowed it. She wiped away her tears, her hands still stained with Azaroth's blood. She had to leave—the palace was collapsing around her, and Arthur was the only one who could get her out.
She gently laid Azaroth's body on the ground, her heart screaming at her to stay, to die with him. But she couldn't. Not yet.
Arthur, finally finished with his celebration, noticed her and approached, his hand outstretched. "Let's leave this hellhole," he said, his voice brimming with false heroism.
Lily forced a smile, teeth gritted behind the facade. "Yes... let's leave." She cast one final, lingering glance at Azaroth, his beautiful face forever etched in her memory, before taking Arthur's hand.
….
The palace doors swung open, and the court erupted into cheers. Arthur, triumphant, held Lily's hand as they stepped inside. But to Lily, the once gleaming halls of her childhood felt like a cage. She was no longer the princess they remembered.
Arthur smiled at her, proud of his so-called victory, but Lily's eyes were hollow, void of any feeling. She was no longer the girl they had once known. Lily had died in that throne room, cradling the body of the Demon King who had taught her to live.