Arabella’s pov
The chill in the northern air was a stark contrast to the warmth I once knew in Mistefell, a place I could no longer call home. My fingers trembled, not just from the cold, but from the weight of my choices. Each passing moment felt like the tightening of a noose around my neck, the consequences of my betrayal sinking deeper into my conscience. The cold breeze that swept through the curtains only heightened the chill in my bones, as if even the air was condemning me for what I had done.
A knock at the door startled me. I wiped the sweat from my brow quickly, trying to compose myself. The maidens of the northern territory entered, their faces expressionless, just like the rest of Nathaniel's subjects. They were here to escort me to the hall, no doubt for an audience with hi
