Reflected in the mirror's glass, the naked form of Catherine lay sprawled on the bed.
Before the mirror, a woman with hair as black as the void and eyes devoid of light perched upon a table.
This woman was Miranda Hearth Blossom, the first wife of Nivel Hearth Blossom.
"They revere him as the Little Fire Immortal," Miranda spoke with bitter contempt, her voice dripping with disdain. "But he is nothing more than a mere charlatan, a clown masquerading as something divine."
"Fifty years have passed, and I have seen through his facade," she continued, her gaze unwavering as she addressed her unseen companion.
"Do you still hold onto the illusion of his omnipotence, Ryan? Are you truly willing to sacrifice your own daughter to the whims of such a wretched creature?" Miranda's words were laced with scorn, a testament to her enduring resentment.
