The King’s Truth

Evelyne's heart pounded as she stood before her father. The weight of his words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"Some truths cannot be undone."

She clenched her fists. She had come this far—there was no turning back now.

King Aldric studied her, his expression unreadable. The room was eerily silent, save for the faint crackling of the torches along the walls.

Finally, he sighed. "Sit, Evelyne."

She hesitated, then stepped forward and lowered herself onto the chair opposite his throne. The tension between them was thick, like a blade hovering over her neck.

Aldric's gaze didn't waver. "What do you think you know about the pact?"

Evelyne inhaled sharply. "I know it's not what it seems."

His expression remained neutral. "And what makes you say that?"

She hesitated. If she mentioned the spirit, would he dismiss it? Or worse—would he know exactly what she was talking about?