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The cold crept along the floor, seeping through my skin and into my bones. I sat on the hard, filthy ground of the cell, surrounded by damp walls and iron bars that seemed so unyielding they suffocated the very air around me.
Darkness enveloped everything, interrupted only by a faint, flickering light in the distance – a cruel mirage of freedom, taunting me with memories of what I once had.
My fingers traced the rough ground, feeling the moisture that slowly soaked into my hands. The stench of decay and rot clung to the air, making it feel like I was entombed in a grave – perhaps I was. A living grave for someone they had long since forsaken. My throat tightened as I contemplated the weight of the lies that had ensnared me. I was alone. Utterly alone.
They had brought me here like an animal, a monster. The daughter of the Duke of Alaris, now nothing more than a prisoner. A prisoner not only of these walls but of the lies that had been woven around me. I was accused of poisoning the Empress. It was absurd, a transparent falsehood that might have made me laugh if the pain weren't so raw. Yet no one believed me. No one wanted to believe me.
The silence was the worst part. Only the uneven dripping of water broke it, somewhere in the darkness. It echoed like a clock, counting the seconds until my inevitable end. Each drop reminded me how little time I had left before they executed their verdict.
I pulled my legs close to my chest, resting my chin on my knees as tears rolled down my cheeks – warm, yet utterly meaningless. I had lost everything: my family, my friends, my freedom. One by one, everything I once cherished was stripped away, leaving me here, an empty shell of who I used to be.
How had it come to this? Why did they believe I was capable of such a thing? My thoughts spiraled, seeking answers that didn't exist. Only the merciless cold remained, seeping not just into my skin but into the very core of my being.
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The guards dragged me out of the cell with a brutal force that sent sharp jolts of pain through my arms. Their hands were rough, their grips unrelenting, as though they feared I might dissolve into the shadows of the prison. Each step they forced me to take, each shove that sent me stumbling, felt like a cruel prelude to the end I knew was coming. I didn't resist; I had no strength left to fight.
The throne room loomed before me, vast and imposing, its high ceilings and golden embellishments exuding an oppressive grandeur. The sound of my shackled footsteps echoed across the cold marble floor as they marched me to the center of the room. The weight of countless stares bore down on me – nobles, courtiers, guards, and advisors, all watching me as though I were some vile creature dragged in from the depths. I stood there, exposed, as though I had already been sentenced.
The Emperor sat upon his throne, his expression as unmoving as the stone it was carved from. The Empress stood beside him, her posture regal, her gaze searing. She looked at me as though I were an insect beneath her heel. But it wasn't their judgment that tore at me the most. It was the face of my uncle, standing to the side of the dais. His eyes glittered with satisfaction, and his lips curved into a sly, mischievous smile that cut through me like a blade. He had won. He had orchestrated all of this.
The Emperor's advisor stepped forward, his voice sharp and commanding as he began to read the charges. "Liora, you stand accused of high treason and the attempted murder of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress. We have irrefutable evidence of your crimes."
Each word hit me like a hammer. High treason. Murder. Me? The enormity of the accusation was suffocating. My thoughts raced, unable to grasp the horror of the situation. This can't be real. This can't be happening.
The advisor's voice droned on, recounting the so-called evidence: the poisoned goblet, found in my chambers; traces of aconitum, Wolfsbane, a poison so deadly it left a slow and excruciating death in its wake. The court murmured, their whispers like daggers, as my uncle stepped forward, cradling the goblet in his hands like a sacred relic.
"This," he said with calculated calm, "is the very cup the Empress drank from before she fell gravely ill. It was discovered in the accused's quarters. The inner rim still bears traces of the poison."
The murmurs swelled into a wave of disbelief. I opened my mouth to protest, but my voice faltered. It was as if my words were swallowed whole by the oppressive weight of the room. My uncle continued, his tone almost gentle, yet dripping with malice. "Furthermore, a vial containing the remnants of the poison was also found in her possession."
He held up a small glass bottle, its dark, viscous contents catching the light. My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I stared at it, my mind screaming the truth: It's not mine. I've never seen it before. But the faces around me were unmoved. They had already decided my guilt.
"I didn't do this," I finally managed, my voice trembling. "I've done nothing wrong."
The Empress, her voice filled with fury, rose from her seat. "You dare deny it? You were the one who handed me the tea yourself! You—" Her words were cut off by a sob, and she turned her face away, as if the sight of me was unbearable.
I remembered that moment vividly. It had been nothing out of the ordinary. A simple, kind gesture. Now it was twisted into an act of treachery.
The guards pressed their spears to my throat, forcing me to my knees in the center of the room. The cold of the stone bit into my skin, yet it was nothing compared to the icy grip of despair. My hands trembled as I struggled to form the words that might save me, but all that escaped were silent tears streaming down my face.
The Emperor's voice was final, an iron verdict. "You will face justice for your crimes. In three days, you shall be executed in the square for all to see."
The room erupted into chaos. Shouts of "Traitor!" and "Poisoner!" filled the air as I was dragged to my feet. My legs felt like lead, my body moving on instinct as the guards hauled me away. My eyes sought out my uncle one last time. His triumphant grin had grown, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He had destroyed me.
As I was pulled from the throne room, the cold darkness of the dungeon swallowed me again. The weight of their judgment crushed me, and I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I was utterly, completely alone.
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