There was a yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling as the only source of light in no window room. Ivory was chained to the chair, hands were cuffed on the table in front of her. She was regaining consciousness when water was splashed on her face.

“Wakeup!”

“Dosage was not that high, Ivory! Drop your act.”

Mukadil’s cold inhumane voice rumbled across the room. She coughed profusely before stating a single word,

“Prince!”

“So tell me Ivory which method you’ll prefer to die? Should I rip your heart out, behead you or burn you alive?”

Ivory was startled at his words, she was fearing for this day from the start...