"You bastard," she screamed, her eyes locked on his back with a glare that could've set him on fire, well, if she could.
Her legs wobbled as she stood straight, her pride in tatters but still clinging to that last ember of defiance, refusing to crumble entirely.
Julian flopped back into his seat, grabbing his mug and taking a slow sip, not even glancing her way.
"Run along, Princess," he muttered, bored now. "The kingdom's mine—go cry to your baby boy about it." He waved a hand toward the door, shooing her away.
Hallie's chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths, fists trembling at her sides. But she didn't move to fight again. Her strength was gone, spent, and his words echoed too loudly in her head.
"Did your love buckle under the weight of your need to breathe."
She turned, stumbling toward the door and yanking it open, only to be greeted by the soft, muffled gossips of the Guardians outside.
