Chapter 283

• Lying back on the chaise lounge, Marinella played the wounded damsel flawlessly. Blood had seeped into her plum-colored outfit, slashes cutting deep through the fabric to reveal raw, pink flesh along the edges. The High Lady's quarters held their usual scent of clean linens and magnolia, but now, the faint tang of blood hung in the air.
• "Are you pleased with yourself?" Isotta’s voice broke through the tension, sharp and melodic, her gaze frosty as she fixed her eyes on me. The air around her chilled, turning bitter as ice began to creep over her fingers, extending her nails into frozen claws.
• Anger made fire dangerously easy to summon. Each time, I had to remind myself to hold back, to not let emotions fuel that flame. But lately, it was harder to make that choice; it felt like I was relying on magic for everything. How could I not, when it seemed like everyone else was striking first? I had to defend myself—even against people like this.