Prince Damian

Lady Eliza had served Prince Damian since childhood. When he was seventeen, she was only fifteen. She knew him better than most: his habits, his favorite dishes, his outbursts of anger, and the rare moments when he allowed himself to smile.

Every time the prince entered the throne room, Eliza and the rest of the servants fell to their knees. The entire kingdom feared him. For a serious mistake, he could order someone's execution, and no one dared to question his decisions.

But Eliza wasn't as afraid of him as the others.

She remembered him as a boy. She treated his wounds after training, brought him medicine when he was sick, monitored his manners, and often reprimanded him for inappropriate behavior. Damian never forgot this, although he rarely spoke of it.

That day, Eliza was dusting the throne room and chatting merrily with the servants. She laughed so heartily that for a few moments she forgot everything around her.

But suddenly the hall fell silent.

The servants instantly turned pale and one after another fell to their knees.

Eliza froze.

A few seconds later she realized what had happened.

Prince Damian stood at the entrance.

She quickly dropped to her knees and bowed her head.

"Forgive me, Your Highness! Please have mercy! I didn't notice you coming. Please forgive me!"

A heavy silence fell over the throne room.

Damian slowly walked up to her and stopped very close.

"Spare?" he chuckled. "What do you mean?"

Eliza shuddered involuntarily.

She knew that voice. It was the tone the prince usually used when speaking to those who were doomed.

No one present dared look up. Everyone was awaiting the order and afraid to be the first to hear it.