Ceasar.

My heart had raced so fast and my breath had quickened as soon as I saw her, not as the princess or Easter I had known her as for months, but as Echo. She arrived outside the palace in a state that sent shock waves through me.

And then she collapsed in my arms before I could fully process the sight before me. She was dirty, covered in a thick layer of grime that obscured the once-pristine features of her face. Her clothes, torn and stained with a mixture of dirt and dried blood, clung to her like a second skin. Wounds crisscrossed her body, and her skin was...