(Elara)
I watched Isabella from across the grand hall, the bitter taste of hate boiling within me, dark and persistent.
There she was, drifting between the nobles. She moved as though nothing had ever changed—as if she still belonged here, as if the crown of this kingdom might someday rest on her head. It was both infuriating and pathetic, watching her cling to a world that had no place for her anymore.
Did she truly believe that by charming the nobles, by remaining at the edge of the court, she could carve out a future for herself?
After all that had happened, after her humiliations and failures, she still dared to present herself as though she belonged. But she was nothing more than an intruder in a place that had once rejected her, unwelcome and unworthy.
Even now, she carried herself as though she were still the kingdom's crown jewel rather than a discarded trinket, her elegance masking a soul tarnished by failure and desperation.
