"Please tell me that everything you and mother were saying isn't true." Mirabella sat on the throne's stairwell, rubbing her red, swollen affected cheek slowly, and Isabella sat next to her, tears in her eyes as she begged eagerly.
"From the slapping and screaming, you should know that it's all true, lady Isabella," Stefan said calmly as he stood in front of Charlotte, who was seated on a small chair, frowning deeply.
"I didn't expect this to be my morning." Mirabella grumbled and winced as she rubbed her cheek too hard, then sighed frustratedly and looked at Isabella, who was still trying to comprehend what was going on.
"So... mother and father conspired to starve Cyrus to death, and all those threats, attacks, and near-death experiences he'd always faced... mother was involved?" Isabella inquired, her voice trembling.
