WRONG CHOICE
Seline knew she was exposed, the burning rage visible in Vimdraolf's eyes was enough explanation. Her backward steps came to a halt when she hits the wall. She was cornered, her life hangs on a thin rope, if she survives this day, then it would mean because she wasn't destined to die yet.
A grey middle age average height man walked into the throne room with a baked bread in his hand and flour all over his clothes, some even got on his scanty hair. He walked in whistling out loud a melodious song, with a bright smile widely spread on his face, he was almost jogging as his legs lead him to his daughter without knowing what situation awaits him or his daughter.
Freezing on a spot all of a sudden, the bread drops out of his hand landing on the ground the second his eyes came in contact with Vimdraolf's. He was too occupied in his fear to notice the girl that Vimdraolf held.