He ChoseThe Wrong Daughter

Ail POV

I was humming a cheerful, melodic tune, the sound bouncing off the dark the walls of my new bedroom in the Southern Palace. Life was finally moving exactly as I had scripted it. Leaning over the table, I picked up a silver blade and sliced it ruthlessly across my left palm. I didn’t flinch. Instead, a manic, wide smile stretched across my lips as the thick, dark blood began to pool and steadily drain out into a ceramic bowl resting below.

The basin was already filled with crushed, dried leaves from a black nightshade variation known across the realms as *Never Fear*. It was a deceptive, beautiful name for a plant that was entirely deadly. I couldn’t help but burst into a fit of breathy, ecstatic laughter as the blood mixed with the flora, turning it into a bubbling, frothing paste.

I can’t believe my foolish brother actually fell for that trick, I thought, my chest swelling with a twisted pride. Riegthar was supposed to be the calculated, strategic peacekeeper, yet he truly believed the East Kingdom was the one that had brutally slaughtered his precious knight, Kenny, and sent his body parts as a declaration of war. It was almost pathetic how easily he had been played.

Grabbing a heavy marble pestle, I began grinding the blood and the toxic leaves together, creating a thick, foul-smelling ointment. The doors to the bedchamber slid open, and the Prince of the South stepped inside. He took one breath of the stagnant air and immediately crumpled his nose, his face twisting in pure revulsion.

"Gods above, Ail... that shit completely stinks," he groaned, waving his hand frantically in front of his face.

"It may stink," my voice dripping with a poisonous sweetness as I ground the pestle harder into the bowl, "but it is going to be the absolute perfect weapon to take my godforsaken family down once and for all."

The Prince sighed, walking over. He tossed a heavy, gold-sealed scroll onto the marble surface right next to my bowl the official marriage certificate of the Southern courts.

"It’s done. We are officially married," he announced, leaning his hip against the edge of the desk. He studied my blood-stained hands with a mixture of intrigue and caution.

"Though I must admit, I am entirely surprised you didn’t actually want to hold a grand wedding ceremony, especially after making the scribes send out all those thousands of royal invitations."

"Oh, there will be a wedding, my dear husband," I laughed softly, a dangerous glint appearing in my eyes. "Just not the kind of wedding anyone in this world actually wants to attend."

He went quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting from the scroll back to my face. "I am genuinely worried about you, Ail."

I paused my grinding, tilting my head to look up at him. "Because I am going to such great lengths just to strip the King of the North away from your precious sister?"

"I am no longer concerned about getting Yue-Senn back," I responded coldly, my tone flattening.

"I just want Ryophlira gone. Entirely. I want her dead, along with every single person who dares to side with her." A proud, smirk cut across his lips.

"Now, that does not mean that there is a sudden, miraculous romantic chance for you and me."

The Prince blinked, caught off guard. "How could you possibly know that was exactly what I was thinking?"

"Because it is written all over your face," I mocked, setting the pestle down to look at him.

"Look, we may fuck, and you may share a fraction of your power through our union, but that is the absolute extent of this arrangement. Do not mistake my compliance for affection."

He let out a dramatic, wounded sigh, shaking his head as he turned away. He walked over to the massive poster bed and laid completely flat on the mattress, his arms and legs spread out wide like a starfish.

"You truly say the most hurtful things to a man who just gave you an army."

"You are just entirely too soft," I retorted, ignoring his pouting as I pulled five small, purple glass vials toward me.

Using a funnel, I transferred the thick, dark mixture into the tiny bottles, sealing each one with a heavy cork. This was the weapon. A concentrated, poison designed to paralyze the target from the inside out. But five bottles weren’t enough to satisfy the hunger in my veins.

I looked down at the remaining, thick residue left at the bottom of the ceramic bowl. To perfect the poison, to ensure it would instantly drop Ry, I needed to test it. I needed to build my own immunity to it, making my own blood a living conduit of the venom.

Without a single moment of hesitation, I picked up the heavy ceramic bowl, tilted my head back, and drank the raw, toxic mixture down in one desperate swallow. The reaction was instantaneous. And it was catastrophic.

A sudden, blinding explosion of agony ripped through my throat and slammed straight into my chest. It felt as though a thousand shards of molten glass were violently tearing through my internal organs, melting from the inside out.

A choked, strangled shriek tore from my throat. The bowl slipped from my fingers, shattering into pieces against the stone floor as I collapsed entirely off my chair, writhing on the ground in pure, unbridled torment.

The Prince rushed from the bed in a blind panic, his boots skidding across the rug as he dropped to his knees beside me, his hands reaching out to pull my shaking body off the floor.

"Don’t! Touch me!" I wheezed out, my voice fractured as I pushed his hands away, my back arching as another wave of internal fire melted my veins.

"Are you completely insane?!" he screamed, his face pale with absolute terror as he watched me suffer.

"It is incredibly dangerous for you to be taking so much of that goddamn thing! You are going to kill yourself before we claim victory!"

I couldn’t answer. A hot, surge rose in my chest, and I leaned forward, spitting a massive puddle of thick, black blood straight onto the floor. My vision was swimming in black spots, my body shaking so severely my teeth were chattering.

"Where is the fucking cure, Ail?!" the Prince panicked, his hands frantically searching my dress pockets, his voice rising into a shout.

"Tell me where the antidote is!"

"No..." I gasped out through the blood coating my lips, my fingers clawing at the stone tiles.

"No... I need to... I need to last longer. The longer I endure the burn... the stronger my blood becomes..."

"Stop this absolute nonsense right now, please! I am begging you!" he cried, his eyes wide with a genuine, desperate fear.

"No!" I shrieked back, a stubborn, defiance giving me a brief surge of strength. The Prince stood there for a fraction of a second, watching me vomit another spray of dark blood, before his panic hardened into an absolute, rage. He turned on his heel and rushed frantically across the room to my desk.

He ruthlessly yanked the bottom drawer open, rummaging through the papers until his fingers wrapped around a small, black and gold bottle the neutralizing antidote I had kept hidden.

He sprinted back to my writhing form on the floor. Without asking for permission, he forcefully hauled my shaking body up into his arms, dragging me over to the edge of the bed. He sat down heavily, pinning my shoulders back against his chest with one powerful arm to keep me restrained.

"Drink it!" he snarled, bringing the tip of the black bottle directly to my lips.

I thrashed violently against his hold, screaming through the blood as I moved my head frantically from side to side, trying to knock the bottle out of his hand.

"Let go of me! Let the poison burn!"

But I was entirely too weak. The toxin had already paralyzed my dragon muscles, making my movements sluggish and pathetic compared to his full strength. He ruthlessly jammed the neck of the glass bottle straight past my teeth, tilting the liquid down into my throat.

To ensure I didn’t spit it back out, he clamped his large hand firmly over both my mouth and my nose, suffocating me, forcing my body into a survival reflex. I thrashed against his chest for five seconds, my lungs burning, until my throat instinctively swallowed the thick, bitter antidote.

The moment the liquid hit my stomach, the molten fire in my veins began to slowly cool, the blinding agony receding into a dull, throbbing ache.

The Prince let go of my face, panting heavily as he stared down at me. Before I could even draw a clean breath, he leaned down and fiercely pressed his lips against mine, kissing me with a desperate, angry possessiveness that tasted heavily of iron and salt.

The instant he pulled back, a surge of pure fury consumed me. I whipped my hand up and delivered a sharp, echoing slap straight across his face.

CHACK.

His head snapped to the side, his cheek instantly blooming into a red mark. But he didn’t recoil. Slow, terrifyingly slow, he turned his face back to look at me, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits that looked entirely animalistic.

Without a word of warning, his hand flew out, and he slapped me back with twice the force.

The impact sent my head slamming sideways against the mattress, the copper taste of fresh blood bursting in my mouth. I gasped, stunned into absolute silence as he leaned over me, his face just inches from mine, his voice dropping into a dark, whisper that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

"Don’t you ever do that sick, suicidal shit in front of me again," he hissed, his fingers gripping my chin with an bruising pressure.

"And the next time you dare to slap me like that, Ail... I promise you, I won’t be gentle."

He ruthlessly threw my head back onto the pillows, releasing his grip entirely as he stood up from the bed. He didn’t cast another look in my direction. He turned on his heel and strode out of the bedchamber, slamming the doors behind his back with a deafening thud that shook the walls.

I lay there alone in the quiet room, my body bruised, my mouth bleeding, and the lingering aftereffects of the poison still making my limbs shake.

Slowly, a small, quiet sound began to echo from my throat. It grew louder, rising into a sharp, broken, and completely unhinged fit of laughter. I threw my head back against the sheets, coughing up a few stray droplets of blood as my manic giggles filled the empty space.

My chest heaving as the laughter twisted into a promise of pure ruin. I am going to watch every single one of them choke and die.