Trigger Warning: This chapter and chapter 401 contains intense psychological trauma, physical violence, and emotionally disturbing content. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
"Fuck!"
Florian's eyes snapped open just as the shock of cold water soaked his skin, seeping into his pores like ice.
He gasped, his back arching off the mattress as the chill shot down his spine.
His blurry vision struggled to adjust under the single, flickering light that hung above him like a cruel spotlight.
The world around him was dim, oppressive, and smelled of mildew and iron.
"What...where—"
A voice interrupted the disoriented panic.
"Well, well... such colorful language for a prince."
It was low, gruff, and coated with mockery. Familiar in the way evil always was—never quite a stranger, even when met for the first time.
Then everything came rushing back—like a cracked dam finally breaking.
Alexandria.
That white-lotus.
The person who Florian thought was his friend.
