Isabella took a deep breath, dramatically patting her chest like she needed to steady herself before delivering a speech of utmost importance.
"Your Highness," she began, voice dripping with something dangerously close to sincerity.
"I must say… your village is truly one of a kind. A place so unique, so unforgettable, that I'll carry the memories with me forever…" She paused, watching the room lean in slightly, as if expecting genuine praise.
Then she dropped the bomb.
"Mostly in the form of trauma."
Silence.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees.
Ophelia and Shelia both stiffened. The man beside Kian, always eerily calm, narrowed his eyes slightly, like he was debating whether she was brave or just suicidal.
Zara, however, lit up like a festival torch.
Yes! Finally! This was it! Isabella had just signed her own exile papers.
