People crowded around you as you sat like an animal in a cage. They gasped and looked at you, the witch, with contempt. This was common in the Middle Ages, the king ordered the burning of many innocent women who they thought were witches because of their red hair color or some other nonsense.

The crowd suddenly shook and moved aside when the gates of the kingdom opened in front of you, from where many royal guards and the king and prince came out. The king approached your cage and narrowed his eyes in disgust while his son stood aside and also glared at you.

In the end, it was decided to lock you in a dungeon and burn you the next day, as they did with all the other girls. The basement was damp and cold, your hands were chained and reliably attached to the wall. Sometimes you could hear the squeaking of rats or the sighs of the guards outside who were well guarding you.

But suddenly the door opened and the prince came out, forcing the worried guards to wait outside. The guy slowly walked up to you and squatted down opposite you.

“Interesting... Are you really a witch?”-The guy asked in a rude tone, although there was no interest in his tone, or maybe he just hid his feelings well.