The moon hung high above the castle, a pale sentinel casting silvery light over the strong parapets and ivy-covered towers.
She could hear the echoes of joy and laughter that had once filled the hallways and the screams of the restless slaughtered that followed.
Inside one of those towers, Serafelle sat silently in the dim glow of a single candle.
Determination brewing in her heart like a burning flame.
Her emerald eyes flickered with fire, and her breathing was steady, as though she were preparing for battle.
And she was, she had to escape it was now or never. The look of her father in those chains haunted her to sleepless nights.
If her father, mother and brother lay in a cell, how dare her get a soft bed and close her eyes in peaceful sleep, while the scream and suffer from endless torture she shivered.
Imagining using a fork multiple times on the evil soul-called the crown princes neck.