"How do you know about the master's curse?" Peter Campbell asked, his voice breaking under the weight of fear.
Sienna-Rose tilted her head slightly, her tone calm but laced with quiet amusement. "How do I know?" she repeated softly.
She lifted her hand, and at once a trail of blue fire unfurled from her fingertips, coiling through the air like a serpent. The flames traced a path across the restaurant floor before fading toward one of the upper suites of the hotel.
Peter's breath caught. His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. "You… you're the one who cursed the Marquis," he whispered, trembling so hard the glass in his hand rattled.
Sienna-Rose's smile was faint, almost pitying. "And your master," she said quietly, "was the one who crossed into Aethelgard without permission. He knew the risk. He was greedy and paid the price."
