SIGRID

He looked a bit lost, staring toward the balcony. He tried to push himself up, but his body collapsed with a dull thud against the floor.

I wanted to go back and help him—I didn’t know why, but I felt such deep pity for him. However, I couldn’t. Here, I wasn’t Princess Sigrid. I was Electra, the cruel witch.

No matter how much I had bewitched him, I couldn’t trust anyone.

He dragged himself across the floor toward the table. He had no strength to sit on the chair, so he yanked the tablecloth, sending all the food crashing onto the floor with the metallic clatter of plates.

I watched him devour the food desperately, barely chewing, like a wild animal fighting to survive.

For the first time, despite all the suffering he had endured since I met him, I saw tears falling from the only eye that still worked, his head bowed.

Goddess, how can you allow such evil against the very beings you loved so much?

Wasn’t it because of them that you longed to descend and witness their lives up cl