Third-person POV

As soon as Electra insinuated that she could be the blessing they never knew they needed, the room changed completely. The reporters, who had already been tense from everything that had been happening, suddenly broke into loud voices all at once, their questions overlapping, their disbelief clear in the way they spoke. Some of them laughed in disbelief, others looked offended, and a few simply stared at her like she had just said something completely insane.

The noise grew quickly, turning into a messy wave of voices that filled the hall, and for a brief second, it almost felt like control had slipped out of everyone’s hands and like they had all forgotten who was standing in front of them.

Electra stood in the middle of it all, watching them with a calm expression that didn’t match the chaos around her. If anything, she looked amused. There was something almost funny to her about how quickly they had lost their composure just because she had called herself a blessing. It was such a simple word, and yet it had shaken them this much and was making them sweat like their lives had ended because she thought of herself as a blessing and not a curse like they thought she was.

Her lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, but close enough to show that she found their reaction entertaining.

Her gaze shifted to the side, landing on Jella, and the moment she saw her expression, that faint amusement deepened. Jella looked pleased, not openly, not in a way that anyone else would easily notice, but Electra saw it. There was a certain light in her eyes, a very low-key satisfaction, like she believed Electra had just made a mistake that would work in her favor. It was subtle, but it was there, and it only made Electra’s expression settle into something more knowing.

Without warning, Electra raised her hand.

The movement alone was enough to draw attention, but when she spoke, her voice cut through the noise with sharp clarity. "Enough," she said, her tone firm, not loud, but strong enough to demand attention. Some of the voices faltered, but not all of them, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the crowd.

"I said shut up," she added, her voice dropping just enough to carry a warning. "The next time any of you decide to speak without my permission, I won’t be this nice about it. Until I permit your questions and show interest in hearing your opinions, keep them to yourselves."

That did it.

The room didn’t fall completely silent, but most of the reporters quieted down immediately, their earlier boldness fading into something more cautious. A few of them exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how far she would go if pushed again. Still, not all of them backed down.

One woman stepped forward slightly, her expression firm despite the tension in the room. She didn’t look afraid, not in the way the others did, and when she spoke, her voice was clear and direct.

"Why should anyone believe you’re any kind of blessing?" she asked, her tone sharp, but controlled. "You seem to be forgetting that up until recently, this entire kingdom believed you were the daughter of Queen Jella."

A few murmurs rose again, quieter this time, but still present.

"Then suddenly, we find out you’re the daughter of some unknown phoenix," the woman continued, her eyes fixed on Electra, "and a king who forced his wife to raise his affair child."

The words were harsh, but she didn’t stop there.

"And now you expect us to believe that just because you can melt guns and hurt people with fire, you’re some kind of blessing?" she added. "As far as this kingdom is concerned, you’re still an abomination that should have never been born."

The room went still.

Everyone’s attention shifted between the reporter and Electra, the tension thick enough to feel. Some of them looked at Electra carefully, almost nervously, like they were waiting for her to react, to snap, to prove their fears right, but she didn’t.

Electra just stood there, staring at the woman with a blank expression, her face giving nothing away. There was no anger, no visible reaction, nothing that matched the intensity of what had just been said to her. The silence stayed for a moment longer than it should have, and it only made the room feel more tense.

Then she spoke. "You just said a whole lot of things," Electra said calmly, her tone flat in a way that made it hard to read, "and I didn’t understand most of it."

There was a slight pause before she added, "And I don’t care enough to try."

A few people blinked, clearly not expecting that kind of response. It wasn’t defensive, it wasn’t angry, and it wasn’t anything they had prepared themselves for. It was dismissive, and somehow, that felt worse.

Electra didn’t look at the reporter again.

Instead, she turned her attention back to Jella, her gaze sharpening slightly as if she had already moved on from the exchange completely. "Bring the bodies here," she said, her tone direct, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "The king and his supposed killer. I want to see them."

The effect was immediate.

Jella’s expression changed, just for a second, but it was enough. Confusion flashed across her face, followed quickly by something that looked a lot like panic before she smoothed it over. The reporters reacted as well, their murmurs growing again as they looked at each other, clearly unsettled by the request.

"Why would you ask for something like that?" Jella said, her voice steady, but there was a slight edge to it now. "The king’s body is already in the morgue, being prepared for the funeral, and the servant’s body is about to be cremated."

Electra didn’t react to the explanation. "Then bring them," she replied simply. "I don’t care what happens to them later. Right now, I want to see my father, and I want to see the person who killed him."

Jella’s posture stiffened slightly, her calm slipping just enough to show that she was not comfortable with where this was going. "That is completely inappropriate," she said, her tone firmer now. "This is a press conference, not a place to display bodies. You cannot seriously want to drag your father’s body out in front of everyone and ruin his dignity like this."

The reporters were fully engaged now, many of them standing up, their attention locked on the exchange. The tension in the room was thick, and it was clear that everyone knew this was no longer just a simple press event.

Electra let out a quiet sigh. Then she turned away from Jella and looked at Irina instead.

"Irina," she said, her voice softer now, but still clear. "Do you trust me?"

Irina blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift. "What?" she asked, her brows furrowing slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"

Electra didn’t answer that question. Instead, she held out her hand. "Give me your hand."

There was a brief pause, a moment where Irina looked at her like she was trying to figure out what she was planning, but in the end, she didn’t pull away. Slowly, she placed her hand in Electra’s.

The moment their hands met, Electra turned back toward Jella.

Before anyone could react, she stepped closer, her movement quick, and reached up toward Jella’s head. Jella barely had time to process what was happening before Electra’s fingers slipped into her hair and pulled out one of the decorative pins holding it in place.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Jella snapped immediately, her voice sharp with both anger and confusion as she instinctively reached up to touch her hair.

Electra didn’t answer. The room was silent again, but this time, it was the kind of silence that came from shock, from confusion, from not understanding what was about to happen.

Electra turned slightly, her grip still firm on Irina’s hand, and without hesitation, she drove the pin straight through it.

The movement was fast, precise, and brutal. The sharp metal pierced through Irina’s hand completely, going clean through from one side to the other, and for a split second, the room didn’t react.

Then everything broke.

Gasps filled the air, followed by shouts and screams as people recoiled in horror, some of them stepping back, others covering their mouths as they tried to process what they had just seen. The sound of it echoed through the hall, loud and chaotic, completely different from the earlier frenzy.

Irina’s eyes widened instantly, the shock hitting her before the pain fully registered. A sharp breath escaped her, and her body tensed, but she didn’t scream. Instead, she looked at Electra, her expression filled with both pain and disbelief.

"What the hell are you thinking?" she asked, her voice tight and strained as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Electra didn’t answer her immediately. She just stood there, holding Irina’s hand steady, the pin still lodged through it, her expression calm in a way that made the entire scene feel even more unsettling.