It was painfully tragic for Rosamund as she looked at the faces of the people who birthed her. It felt like a lifetime since she saw their faces. No good memory played in front of her eyes as she gazed at the people who had always been responsible for destroying her life till now. They didn’t even come to her wedding, the only day she would have ever seen them together, all of them as a family. They robbed her of that moment and Rosamund felt the old wounds hurt again. No matter how many times she tried to have her emotion cut off, to kill the tears that lay on the corners of her eyes, and squeeze her heart so that it would stop beating so erratically in their presence. The swords were still drawn, she was still perceived as the enemy, a threat.
Holding the tip of the sword held by Kin
