You grew up under the rule of a strict and cold father. As the king of the palace, he commanded respect and fear, and you, his only daughter, felt the brunt of his harshness. From a young age, you experienced his wrath, even when there seemed to be no reason for it. He beat you, his anger finding its outlet in your tears and pain. He blamed you for things beyond your control, for every misstep, every minor error that occurred within the palace walls. It felt as if your very existence was a burden to him.

You could never understand why he despised you so much. He was always cold and distant, withholding any semblance of warmth or affection. Unlike the other children you saw, you never received a gentle touch or a kind word. Instead, his eyes would burn with disdain whenever he looked at you, a constant reminder of his hatred. It was as if he harbored a deep-seated resentment towards you, one that had festered.

"You're such a disappointment, I regretted the day I held you in my arm..." he said coldly