Jessamyn stood there, her eyes fixed on the man she once trusted with her life. Her master spoke in a voice thick with false concern, carefully weaving his words as if crafting a delicate trap.
He claimed to worry for her safety and the well-being of Ayberia, but Jessamyn could see through him now. The years of loyalty, of believing in him, had eroded under the weight of the truth. He couldn't mask the malice that darkened his eyes, no matter how convincing his words were.
She listened, her expression calm, almost trusting, but deep down she felt the cold grip of suspicion tightening around her heart. Jessamyn had never considered herself a particularly clever woman, yet it was impossible to miss the danger lurking beneath his words.
