Silence smothered the grand hall once more, the only sound being the faint scrape of Seraphine's sword as she picked it up from the marble floor.
Her gaze swept over her sisters—each face unreadable, save for Laura's infuriatingly smug expression.
"Did all of you know?" she asked at last, her voice tight with anger and humiliation.
"Know what, dear sister?" Elyra's lips curved faintly, her eyes glittering with mischief.
Seraphine's jaw clenched. Their calm, almost mocking stares made the humiliation burn hotter. But it was Laura's lazy, amused smirk that twisted the knife.
"This isn't over," Seraphine muttered, her voice low, trembling with rage.
Laura tilted her head, resting her cheek against her palm. Her tone was sweet, but her words were poison.
"I'm pretty sure it is. You were dumb enough to fall into an obvious trap, so no—you don't get to seek vengeance. You get to sulk."
