Chapter 28 Florence

• Florence.
• The whole castle seemed draped in an unbearable heaviness, suffocated under a thick veil of grief. The servants moved silently through the halls, eyes downcast and voices hushed, the weight of their sorrow hanging in the air like an ever-present fog. Even the walls, cold and grey, seemed to mourn the loss of Arabelle, as if her absence had somehow robbed the stones of their warmth. The kingdom itself was grieving, or so they pretended.
• Arabelle, my half-sister. The bastard child of my father.