𝙽𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 || I'm not that kind of talent x Fem!Reader

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

⌠Edited⌡

"You are hereby banned from ever entering these lands again."

'All I ever did, I did to make you proud...'

"You are no longer my daughter,"

'All I ever yearned for was your approval...'

"You're a monster."

'All I ever did was listen to you...'

"Get lost, imbecile."

'All I ever did, was for you.

So, why? Why do you push me away? Why do you resent me? This is all your fault, you made me do it. All I ever sought was your love, a shred of understanding. Yet, you cast me aside as if I were a wretched outcast.'

"Fathe-"

"Do NOT invoke the title of father, for you have brought naught but shame upon the legacy of our family. Look to your brothers as exempl-"

"WHY, WHY SHOULD I HEED YOUR WORDS ANY LONGER? YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MOLDED ME INTO THIS, YOU... you are the one who should perish."

.𓁑.

In the dimly lit chamber, the air hung heavy with tension as you stood beside your father's bleeding body. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the acrid scent of regret. Your sword, now a macabre canvas, dripped with the crimson evidence of a fateful clash. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a complex torrent of emotions – the weight of a lifetime's torment lifted off your shoulders, replaced by the stark reality of the irreversible.

Your mother, a witness to the unthinkable, sat in a corner, hands over her quivering mouth to stifle any escaping sounds of anguish. The room echoed with the silent aftermath, a tableau of shattered familial bonds and the haunting liberation that accompanies a descent into the unknown.

"Mother... no, Your Majesty," you declared, gracefully descending to one knee. "I shall not dispute his words, nor shall I tread upon this land again." As you rose, your eyes betrayed a solemn rage, a tempest of emotions held in check. "But engrave this upon your heart: I shall wage war upon the very land that bore me, for you must never forget the wretched events you all have imposed upon me." The room clung to a heavy silence, the weight of your proclamation saturating the air. With a final, poignant gaze, a blend of sorrow and newfound freedom, you turned away, leaving an ominous quietude, portending the impending storm set to sweep across the realm.