Jessamine
It's snowing.
Adjusting the scarf around my neck, I let out a frosty breath, squinting into the mild snow storm. Kier and Mikkel wait by the stables and Camilla jogs over with the last of my boxes. Nerves wrack my being and I rub my hands together in a bid to dispell them. I do not look forward to returning to that place. That castle. I remember Moira. I remember the scalding tea running down my throat. I remember her arrow whizzing past my head. I remember the duel.
I smile a little. I do not return as a maid. Or an Omega. No. Far from it. Perhaps, there is something to look forward to after all.
"Happy to leave me so soon, daughter?" I hear Father say behind me.
I turn, taking his outstretched hands. "Of course not. It is you, after all, who wants me gone." I notice Queen
