Rebirth Of The Duke's Daughter

Chapter 49

"So, you believe they wouldn't turn against us if we release them?" The emperor's voice was calm, but there was a hint of skepticism in his tone. He glanced at his sister, who was clearly pushing to save the young girl standing before them. The princess hesitated, unsure of how to respond, aware of the delicate situation they were in.

"We are not here for any such intentions," Mila suddenly spoke up, her voice steady and confident, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Oh? And how so?" The emperor tilted his head slightly, intrigued by her boldness. He couldn't discern what this young girl was planning.

"We are searching for a cure," Mila continued, her tone unwavering. "A cure for the scar on my face." She knew she had to provide a plausible reason, one that would make them believe she wasn't a threat.

"How?! You're wearing a mask! How can we trust the word of a Mireraweth citizen?!" The man who had brought the accusations sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. Mila sighed, clearly frustrated by his disbelief.

Mila turned to Emmett, sensing his unease. She had prepared for this moment, casting a spell earlier to change the color of her eyes, masking their true identity while they were held in the cells. With a deep breath, she reached up and removed her mask. Gasps echoed through the room as everyone stared at her, taken aback by the sight. Even the emperor, though he masked his reaction, couldn't hide his shock.

The scar on Mila's face had spread, no longer confined to just half the size of her hand. It now covered the full length of her hand, the blue vine-like mark twisting ominously around the left side of her eye. "As you all should know by now," Mila said, her voice calm but firm, "this scar can only be caused by a Siren." She allowed the weight of her words to sink in before placing her mask back on, knowing she could only maintain the spell for a short time.

The emperor studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly. "Very well. I'll believe you this time," he conceded, though his voice carried a clear warning. "But if you meddle again, don't think I won't kill you."

The tension in the room began to dissipate as the guards escorted the goons away. The moment they were out of sight, Sara, Thelma, and Cotton rushed to Mila, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

"We thought you were going to die!" they cried out, their voices filled with relief and lingering fear. Mila groaned softly, finding their overprotectiveness both endearing and a bit overwhelming.

"How could your scar have grown more?!" Sara exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at Mila's face, the sight of the scar weighing heavily on her heart.

"It's supposed to grow over time," the emperor interjected, stepping forward to stand in front of Mila. His presence was imposing, but there was a gentleness in his tone that contrasted with his earlier harshness.

Mila looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It's nice to meet you again, mister," she said, her voice light and familiar, reminding him of their brief encounter that morning. For a moment, the emperor's stern demeanor softened, a slight smile playing on his lips beneath the mask.

"How dare you not address him as 'your majesty'!" the assistant snapped, glaring down at Mila, offended by her casual tone.

The emperor waved a hand dismissively. "No need," he said, his focus still on Mila. "Would you and your friends like to join me for a little stroll?" His offer was genuine, a rare gesture of goodwill.

Mila shook her head gently. "There's no need. With the upcoming war... I don't think we are welcome here. We'll be taking our leave." Her words were polite but firm as she turned and led her comrades out of the throne room.