King Theodor stared at the body, his red eyes void of any sympathy, as if the scene was nothing new to him. Silence engulfed the room, broken only by the sound of the breath of his attendant standing beside him.
The knight spoke in a calm tone, attempting to explain the situation: "Your Majesty, it appears she wasn't aware she had to cast the silence spell. Any attempt to speak would have killed her instantly."
Theodor did not respond, but he slowly approached the corpse, his eyes scanning it with cold indifference. The long moment of silence revealed that he wasn't concerned with her fate; he was already planning what would come next.
She was just a servant, after all, and mistakes like this were unforgivable in his kingdom. Theodor gave the body one last glance, then raised his gaze toward his attendant, who stood nervously. Anger was faintly hidden in the attendant's voice as he spoke, "Truly, it's not yet confirmed whether the imposter was telling the truth, but they wanted to eliminate her in fear of your wrath."
Theodor didn't respond directly, but a cold smile briefly touched his lips before fading. He took another step forward, walking past the body as if it weren't there.
"Fear… it's a powerful tool," he said with deadly calm, "but it's useless unless it's justified."
Theodor began walking steadily toward the exit, the knight silently following him. The echo of their footsteps reverberated in the dim corridors of the lower dungeon until his personal advisor appeared, hurrying to catch up.
"Your Majesty," the advisor spoke, attempting to maintain a calm tone, "Miss Selenia has been frequenting the library every day. I heard she's requested certain plants and flowers, saying she needs them for the time she sings to you."
Theodor smiled wickedly as he recalled Selenia's appearance and expressions during their first meeting. "Give her what she wants," he said quietly, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "She escaped death for the second time… not bad."
The advisor and knight exchanged a glance of fear, understanding the king's words. They knew Selenia might be able to cure him of the curse.
The king added coldly, "I'll go alone… don't follow me."
They bowed silently as he vanished into the shadows.
The knight whispered with quiet seriousness, "Only one day remains."
The advisor looked ahead, his eyes filled with contemplation: "We'll see… was what the Count said about his daughter true, or just a trick?"
The knight's voice was full of hopeful anxiety: "Pray that it's true."
The advisor remained silent, lost in dark thoughts.
Selenia stood on the balcony, her long black hair dancing with the cold night breeze, her features deep in contemplation of the sky, where the moon was nearing fullness. Her gaze was steady, but inside her, emotions churned. She whispered, her voice barely audible, "Tomorrow… it's the real test."
Her memory took her back to the cold throne room, where the sound of her father's screams and his false claims surrounded her like sharp thorns choking her. She felt fear, a suffocating urge to vomit, but despite it all, she knew she could not show any weakness.
(There's no room for failure now. If I falter, I'll lose everything… and this time, I might not survive.)
On the day of reckoning, in the royal bedroom, I sat alone on the chair, silent, as time passed slowly and agonizingly. I gripped my hands tightly. (The day has come… while everyone celebrates the king's twenty-fourth birthday, it cannot be a joyful day. It's as if he is drawing closer to death than ever before.)
At the same time, elsewhere in the grand and regal banquet hall, the atmosphere was charged with both magnificence and dread. The hall itself looked like a masterpiece of architecture, its walls adorned with golden engravings, glittering under the glow of giant chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The royal red and black banners hung gently from the vast windows, overlooking the night sky, while the aristocratic music echoed throughout the room.
The attendees wore their finest silk garments and sparkling jewelry, exchanging conversations and laughter as if in true celebration, yet beneath it all, there was a hidden anxiety, a sense that something wasn't quite right. The fragrance of expensive flowers decorating the place mingled with the scent of fine wine, adding an over-the-top sense of grandeur to the event.
King Theodor sat on his large throne at the far end of the hall, drinking slowly, his blood-red eyes calm and cold, as though daring everyone around him. The royal robe he wore was heavy, its dark colors reflecting his authority and strength, adorned with golden threads and the symbols of the royal family. Despite all the decoration and grandeur surrounding him, the atmosphere around him was tense with silence, as if everyone knew that this birthday celebration was, in truth, a celebration of his nearing death.
The smiles were artificial, the joy fragile, and everyone watched from afar, not daring to approach the king, shrouded in mystery and danger.
The attendees began to whisper quietly, as if their words must not reach the king's ears.
"Will she truly succeed in helping him break his curse?"
"Or will this be just another false hope?"
Their cautious glances exchanged discreetly, avoiding any direct eye contact with the king's cold gaze.
"But… does anyone truly want his curse to be broken?"
Those last words carried an undertone of fear and doubt. Some secretly questioned whether a strong king, free from his curse, would truly serve their interests, or if the continuation of his curse was what ensured their hold on power.
King Theodor remained silent, his cold, blood-red eyes scanning the crowd before him, his face devoid of any expression. He seemed uninterested in the celebration surrounding him, yet his thoughts roamed sharply: (They dance before me like puppets… wearing masks that conceal their true intentions.)
It was as though he could see beyond the smiling faces and lively conversations. They were like a mass of watchful eyes, monitoring his every move, secretly hoping he wouldn't be cured, praying that his curse would last until the end. (Every smile hides a wish for my death, and every congratulation is filled with the desire that I do not live long.)
It was as if shadows began to gather around the king, quietly creeping through the crowd, whispering dark words to him: "A celebration dressed in blood… while the music plays, it will be more entertaining."
The voices seeped into his mind, attempting to stir something buried deep within him. Those whispers carried a promise of violence and chaos, as if they sought to drown this fake celebration in a sea of disorder and blood. Yet Theodor didn't move; he remained seated, his eyes cold, seemingly indifferent to what he was hearing.
(Will this be the outcome? A party of puppets dancing to the tune of blood?)
King Theodor slowly rose, as if the dark whispers surrounding him weighed heavily on both his body and soul. These whispers were not merely fleeting sounds, but a hidden warning, alerting him to the approach of something far worse—losing control of himself entirely, succumbing to the curse that was consuming him day by day.
His blood-red eyes glimmered momentarily under the hall's light, his strong body appearing to resist an unseen force pushing him toward the abyss. The more the whispers increased, the more he felt the curse creeping into the deepest parts of his soul, inching ever closer to complete control.
(Is this my fate? To lose myself… to become a shadow torn apart by this curse?)
These thoughts swirled in his mind, but his face remained impassive, revealing none of the internal battle that was tearing him apart. He looked coolly at his advisor, the dark whispers still hovering around him, yet he composed himself and said in a calm, firm voice: "It's time to test that woman."
The advisor, who had been silently watching the king with a mixture of anticipation and fear, bowed his head respectfully and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty." He dared not speak further, for the atmosphere was heavy with the presence of the curse and the decisive action the king had taken.
Selenia's trial was imminent, and everyone knew that failure was not an option.
King Theodor's heavy footsteps echoed through the vast, dimly lit corridors, as though the walls themselves trembled at the sound of his boots, leading him toward his royal chamber. The darkness around him seemed to thicken, amplifying the weight of the silence. Each step felt as if it brought him closer to the moment of confrontation… and to his inevitable fate.
The whispers did not fade; instead, they grew louder and more intense, wrapping around him as if they were part of him. His blood-red eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, as though the curse that bound him was merely waiting for the right moment to consume everything.
Theodor opened the door quietly, the sound not loud enough to catch Selenia's attention. As he entered, he stood for a moment, silently watching her. She sat by the balcony, gazing out at the black sky and the glowing full moon, which seemed to be watching her in return.
Selenia looked like someone accustomed to looking outwards, searching for something far away, distant from this place and this moment. Her long black hair draped gently over her shoulders, slightly tousled by the balcony's breeze, and her face displayed no clear emotion. In that moment, Theodor saw something mysterious in her calm, as if she harbored a painful serenity, tense beneath a façade of artificial peace.