Chapter 85 Seraphina

• The transformation spell feels like a second skin, molding effortlessly to my touch—familiar, serpentine. I stare at myself in the mirror, watching as my face fades, replaced by the dull, soft contours of that insipid girl, Aria. My flawless skin and sharp gaze dissolve, giving way to her timid expression and forgettable features. A disgusted sigh escapes me, revulsion almost tangible as my beauty is obliterated by the plain, pathetic face of the dutiful and forgettable mother.
• But every detail is crucial for the plan. The transformation is merely a facade, the artifice paving the way for what must be done. Soon, while my mercenaries deal with fragile Aria and the foolish Alexander, I will have a far more critical task: capturing those bastards. The little ones are vital to the salvation ritual for Syltirion. Time is against me; I cannot afford to bear Caelum’s heir myself, nor would I endure such a burden now. These two will serve the purpose well.
• The journey to her house is swift, but the anticipation makes each step a prolonged delight of dark pleasure. Before I even enter, I hear laughter and children’s voices echoing through the house, carefree and joyful. The sound of their innocence fills me with deep disgust, but I steel myself, adjusting my expression to embody Aria's insipid aura.