Isabella stood at the window of her grand chamber, a regal figure bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The room was adorned with opulence befitting her status as the first princess, and her reflection in the ornate mirror seemed to radiate an air of entitled beauty.
Her emerald eyes, shimmering with a mixture of arrogance and disdain, focused on the world outside. From her vantage point, she observed the bustling kingdom, a realm that should rightfully belong to her. Yet, she couldn't escape the shadow that loomed over her—Seraphina, her younger sister.
"Oh, Seraphina," Isabella spoke with a tone dripping with venom, "how I loathe your very existence. The way you walk through life, so insignificant, is an insult to our noble bloodline."
Isabella's fingers traced the intricate patterns etched into the window frame as she continued her soliloquy. "You were always the favored one, weren't you? Our parents doted on you, showered you with affection and praised your every accomplishment. It sickens me."
Her voice grew colder as she spoke of Seraphina's powers. "Your feeble magic, a mere flicker compared to the brilliance of my own. I have honed my craft tirelessly, surpassing the limits of what is deemed possible. You could never hope to reach my level of mastery."
A wicked smile played upon Isabella's lips as she reveled in her own superiority. "But mark my words, dear sister, I will not let you rise above me. Your potential, as insignificant as it may be, threatens to cast a shadow upon my glory. I will not allow it."
Isabella's tone turned menacing as she contemplated her next move. "I will expose your weaknesses, your flaws, and strip you of the adoration you so wrongly receive. The kingdom will see you for the fraud you are, and they will bow before me, the person worthy of being their ruler."
With a final, scornful glance at her own reflection, Isabella turned away from the window. Her mind brimmed with plans to undermine Seraphina, to dismantle her perceived strength piece by piece. The crown would rest upon her head, and the kingdom would be hers to command.
As she strode across the chamber, Isabella's steps echoed with the resolute resolve of a woman fueled by entitlement. She might change her stance but who knows.
The stage was set, and Isabella would be the greater sister, she was was smarter , prettier and more talented.
Seraphina would crumble beneath the weight of her own insecurities, and Isabella would rise like a phoenix from the ashes, her name etched into the annals of history.
The shadows of envy would no longer haunt her; they would be replaced by the glorious radiance of her own reign. Isabella would emerge victorious, her sister forever beneath her, a constant reminder of her unwavering strength and dominance.
Although she couldn't help but wonder. Perhaps the anger she felt from her child was long overdue to Act