Whispers flowed like a slow poison
July 10, 2025 at 5:43 PM
In the grand drawing room, whispers flowed like a slow poison.
“Have you heard what happened last night?” whispered Mara, glancing toward the door where Isara had just passed.
Elena shook her head, eyes wide. “Someone said Alarion was furious again. Heard raised voices, then silence. You don’t think…?”
“No, no one would admit it openly,” Mara said. “But those bruises don’t come from nowhere. I feel so sorry for Isara.”
A few others nodded solemnly, their pity thick in the air. “She’s so sweet, so fragile. It’s cruel what she must endure.”
Yet no one dared to say a word to Isara herself. Fear of the powerful Ossandor family held them back.
