Anastasia pov
"If that is your wish, Anastasia, I will be more than happy to fulfill it," Ethan responds through clenched teeth. His voice is cold and controlled, but the redness from my slap still burns on his face. The mark of my fingers is clearly visible on his cheek, a physical reminder of my indignation. "You can prepare your things. Tomorrow morning, I will send a car to take you wherever you wish. As soon as that car leaves the grounds of my castle, you may go your way, and I will go mine," Ethan declares.
"I do not need any favors from you, Your Majesty. I will leave tonight if possible," I retort impatiently. The temperature of the castle courtyard has dropped drastically, as if the night itself reflected the coldness between us. Clouds begin to form, dense and threatening, and the wind swirls through the trees.