Viola arrived by horse in a wagon drawn on a green plus, she was wounded critically, and her brother was concerned he had never seen her like that in decades. He never believed anything could get her sister to look like that.
Her hands were barely held by its tendons, her face scarred in ways only a sadistic bastard could do, and she was barely herself. He was inside the wagon while the knight tried to tell him, as politely as they could, to leave.
Meanwhile, he just relished in the metallic smell of his unconscious sister's blood, his grip on her hand so heavy, she almost crushed his hand.
Then, as he was looking at her tense face, she suddenly eased up, his heart thumped so hard it almost broke through his rib cage
IS SHE D-D-D-EAD?
"Who did this to her!!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs so much so that it scared his fourteen-year-old daughter, who was silently watching from inside the castle. She would come to realize that her father wasn't as strong as she thought he was after that day.
Viola didn't know why, but she woke up tired, her body unresponsive, worse of all, completely alone, she woke up a bit scarred. She didn't scream, wasn't confused, she just tested her legs, her arms, and due to their responsiveness, she walked up, took a chair by its armrest, ripping it out