Vengeance, the only word Wriothesley had grown to fully grasp the meaning of. Being born into a small family on the outskirts of Fontaine, he didn’t have much Mora to spend or clothes to wear, but the love his parents had for him made him feel like the richest. Until a night of terror, blood, and screams of pure agony filled the loving household.

He grew up to be trained by the best, a master of the abyss, so that he could seek justice in this corrupted land where people are blinded by theatricals. He’d learned that the murder of his parents was a direct order from the king, and he had made a well-thought-out plan ever since; take what was most precious from him.

So, that was why he was here, looming over the soundly asleep princess. He had heard rumours of the beauty of the only daughter of the king, but they clearly weren’t exaggerated. to kill or not to kill