SAMANTHA
Seeing the fear etched on Molly's face, King Lionel's frown deepened with each passing moment. From the gravity of his expression, I could tell he was beginning to believe my words. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling a burden lift slightly off my shoulders. Thankfully, King Lionel was no fool but a man of discernment. He had ruled for decades, and his judgment was rarely clouded by emotion or favoritism. I had placed my faith in that, and it seemed my faith was not misplaced.
Yet, just as I thought the storm had passed, John interjected, "Your Majesty, if I may, a sex slave's testimony cannot be taken at face value."
Did John really call me a slave? The word hung in the air like a slap. My former fiancé, the man who had once promised me forever, now stood before the king, reducing me to nothing more than a title. The irony was bitter, almost suffocating.
