The King's Last Supper

Castilla’s POV

When the joyful face of my father graced my eyes, all I could muster was an unmasked hatred toward him. Ares the great warrior king was now as powerless as one could ever imagine. While our people shed their blood on the battle line, he wasted his energy on minor vices, lavishing his energy on sleeping with different women working in the palace every day. Women who were almost the same age as me. My father made my skin crawl, several times I wondered or had the fear he would force me to his bed.

Larog's words echoed in my mind: “He wants to kill you, Callista, You are a menace to his position and he will certainly not hesitate." I wondered if his affection towards me was as false as what I now had towards him. Was he behaving this way to feel less guilty about the fact that he planned to kill me later?

To get out of this predicament I had no other option than to attack first.

The main dining hall was more like a sight out of a fairy tale with the candlelight which made