MONICA'S POV
“Before she was exiled, she handled the trade herself,” the response came out of her lips in a panicked rush, each word tumbling over the other. “Everything passed through her hands but since she left, nothing has worked the same.”
The fire in my chest didn't just burn; it roared, consuming my control.
Even when that pathetic witch was gone, even as a disgraced exile wandering the woods, her ghost still managed to be more successful than every educated administrator I put in place. I had spent months, years, trying to prove that I was the superior mind, the sharper asset. And now I was being told that the only reason Moonlit ever prospered was because of that woman.
I lashed out on instinct. My hand caught a crystal vase on the side table, sending it flying across the room
