No response came from beyond the door. Silence lingered, an indifferent kind of silence that made the determination of Darcina, as steely as it was, feel insignificant, worthless.
The beautiful woman gritted her teeth not out of anger, not out of humiliation, but out of akin to resentment, one she did not even dare to truly show, one she could only repress, and let brew in her chest. But resentment was not something that a chest, no matter how generous could contain. However, everything was a matter of willingness, and when, no matter how unfair, even life, or death could not change things, there was only death, or a will hot enough to endure what must be endured.
Forcing down the reaction of her body, the princess took a deep breath, and spoke with the barely mustered remnants of the calm she had been showing to the world, and to the earthlings who had arrived at the capital with her:
"I am a princess. Nothing should take away my right to the throne, not even my birth…"
