In the quiet chambers of the realm, where whispers of deceit and shadows of treachery danced in the air, the imposter stood before the mirror. Her features, a twisted reflection of the true ruler, Lord Kealan's beloved Desina, bore a smirk that dripped with malice. Behind the glass, trapped within its confines for what seemed an eternity, Desina's weary visage stared back.
"Hello, hun," the imposter cooed, her voice a mocking imitation of Desina's warmth. She watched with amusement as Desina's image flickered to life within the mirror, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.
Desina's eyes, once bright with determination, now held a weary glint as she met the imposter's gaze. Ignoring the imposter's taunts, she focused her attention on her swollen abdomen, her fingers tracing the g
