Chapter 12 The Festival

• The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in a muted gray. I slipped back into the manor without anyone noticing, my feet light and my breath held, as though I feared the shadows might betray me. I hadn't slept a wink, my mind racing with the image of Damien and Florence, my husband and my half-sister, entwined in that treacherous kiss by the mermaid fountain. It was a scene that would haunt me, one I could not scrub from my memory no matter how hard I tried.
• The day had finally arrived: the church's festival. They called it a celebration, a victory of light over darkness, claiming that evil had not prevailed. I scoffed at the thought. What did they know of evil? What did any of them know of betrayal? What was evil, and what wasn't? The lines blurred like ink on damp paper, and I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
• A soft knock at the door broke through my thoughts. Winifred, my maid, entered quietly, her face as somber as always. "My lady," she murmured, "breakfast is served. The Duke's family arrived earlier this morning for the festival. You are expected to join them."