Dianna's account
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but it wasn't just fear I felt. There was something else—a sincerity in his voice that was hard to ignore.
"What… what does that mean for me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "My uncle won't stop until he destroys you. But I won't let that happen. Dianna, run away with me."
"Run away?" I gasped, stepping back. "Are you even listening to yourself? A crown prince abandoning his duty for a witch who could one day turn against him?"
He moved closer again, his grip tightening on my arms. The moonlight caught the intensity in his blue eyes. "You would never hurt me—I know that."
"How can you be so sure?" I shot back, tears spilling over. "Your people fear us. They say we lose control and hurt everyone around us. How can you be certain I won't do the same? Or do you plan to keep these magic shackles on me even after we escape?"
Lyrien's silence was all the answer I needed. He looked away, confirming my worst fears.
A sharp pain gripped my heart. It hurt more than I wanted to admit that he saw me just like the rest of his kingdom did. I broke free from his hold, wiping away my tears. "I've always been safe, Prince Lyrien. Please, stop worrying about me," I said, bowing slightly. "And don't come looking for me again. No one will believe you are the one stalking me, I will get blamed as usual."
I turned away from him, hugging myself as I hurried out of the forest. The cold night wind did nothing to cool the storm inside me—my emotions were a tangled mess.
Why was my life suddenly taking such a dramatic turn? I had always stayed in the shadows, blending into the darkness, unnoticed. But now, someone so bright was shining a light on me.
I wished it felt uplifting, but it didn't. When something meant for the darkness is exposed to the light, it stands out. And I must never stand out—it will be the end of me.
I slipped quietly through the garden's back door, but my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I saw Eleanor pacing nervously, waiting for me.
Catching my breath, I gave her a light pinch on the arm. "You scared me half to death."
"No time for that, mistress—your husband's back! We have to get you to your room now!" Her urgency cut through my shock.
"H-he's already gone to my room?" I stammered.
"He's taking a bath and will be out any minute if we don't hurry," Eleanor hissed. "We should thank the gods you made it back in time."
Resigned to my fate, I let Eleanor drag me to the mansion. We barely made it to my room in time. I had just slipped under the covers when Christopher burst through the door.
"Why are you still here?" he snapped at Eleanor, making her jump.
"I asked her to stay," I said softly, trying to sound as weak as I felt. "My feet hurt. I wanted her to give me a massage."
"Get out. I'll do it myself," he growled.
Eleanor squeaked and hurried out, head bowed. Christopher slammed the door behind her, making his mood clear.
I sighed inwardly. Not this again. I was so tired of being the target of his frustrations.
I stiffened as he approached, sitting at the foot of the bed. He lifted the covers, placing my feet on his lap. "Oil."
I quickly retrieved the oil from the drawer beside the bed and handed it to him. For the next twenty minutes, he massaged my legs until I felt drowsy, but I couldn't afford to fall asleep—not while he was here.
I watched him closely, studying his expression. I could tell something was on his mind, but I hesitated to ask, fearing what he might say. So, I stayed quiet.
We sat in silence until Christopher sighed heavily, breaking it. "I've been hard on you lately, haven't I?"
I didn't respond, waiting to see where this was going. He stood up, gently placing my legs back on the mattress before moving to the head of the bed to turn off the light. The faint scent of alcohol lingered as his bearded chin hovered above me. He kissed my forehead after switching off the lights.
"I'm sorry for how I've treated you these past weeks. I was… experimenting," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He stroked my hair gently. "You're probably wondering what kind of experiment. Well, lately, there's been a rise in black magic in the kingdom, and since you're the only witch here, I thought if I pushed you enough, you'd reveal yourself. But you seem innocent."
His eyes searched mine, looking for something, but there was nothing to find. I felt numb hearing him confess to abusing me because he suspected I was using black magic.
He knew I couldn't cast a spell to save my life, yet he still tested me. I found myself laughing bitterly, no longer caring about the consequences. "You're a cruel man, Christopher," I said, tears streaming down my face. "You know I'm no different from anyone else, yet you still put me through this. Go on, keep testing me until I'm dead."
"Don't say that, Dia," he murmured, pulling me into his arms. "I wish I could tell you it's over, but that would be a lie."
"What?" I sniffled, confusion knitting my brows together.
"They want to put you on trial—to prove your innocence."
"I have never practiced witchcraft!" I argued , raising my voice slightly as I struggled to break free from his hug. "Why do I have to be tried?"
"Shh." Christopher patted the back of my neck gently. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."
I chuckled in self mockery, there was not a single witch in Swan Galacia that has survived and I would be no different. Maybe I should have escaped with that prince when I still could.