Blood Oath
The dungeon air crystallized between us, thick with the metallic scent of old blood and impending betrayal.
I turned the dagger in my hand, moonlight licking its edge like a silver flame. The prisoner's breath came in ragged gasps, his chains rattling a death knell.
"Choose," the Crown Prince murmured, his voice the scrape of a blade being drawn. "His life...or your place at my side."
The prisoner laughed, a wet, broken sound. "Kill me, and your mother's truth dies with me. Spare me, and you lose his protection." His bloody fingers clutched the bars. "The document that condemned her—"
I moved.
Not toward his heart.
Toward his chains.
Steel shrieked against steel. Sparks flew like dying stars as the manacles shattered.
The Crown Prince didn't flinch as I snatched the sword from his belt. His eyes—those fathomless pools of night—darkened with something almost like...approval.
"Run," I hissed to the prisoner. "You have ten breaths."
The man vanished into the shadows, his laughter echoing like a ghost down the stone corridors.
Silence.
Then—
"You disobeyed." The Prince's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it.
"You knew I would."
A beat. Two. The dungeon walls seemed to lean closer, bearing witness.
"By dawn," he said at last, turning away, "everyone will know you've broken from my hand." His silhouette melted into the darkness. "Walk your own path then...and see how far it takes you."
The heavy door groaned shut.
Alone in the blackness, I stared at the sword in my hand—still warm from his touch, now stained with my choice.
That night, the Eastern Palace lost its most obedient blade.
And I—
I finally began to live.
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