Tristan stared down at his own reflection in the flowing waters of the river. His body was still bruised and wounded from the relentless punishments he had endured in the dungeon. It has been three days and yet the pain and exhaustion remained so intense that Tristan couldn't recall the last time he had a moment of true rest.
*Flashback*
Tristan’s body tensed as the first lash struck his back, a searing pain slicing through him like fire. He bit down hard, refusing to cry out, even as the leather whip tore into his skin. The soldiers who were loyal to King Lucian, showed no mercy. Each strike was brutal and it cut through his skin as another lash came down, followed by another. Tristan’s body trembled under the relentless onslaught, but his resolve remained unbroken. He had protected Isa
