Mojca stood outside the Valois mansion and watched the car drive in. She was standing at a very respectable distance but she knew that there were eyes watching her.
Like bugs, she could feel the eyes skuttling over her skin. She was unrecognisable in her dark cloak and even if they were to see her features under the cloak, she was a nobody.
She used to be somebody. The daughter of the north wind pack, soon to be princess and luna. There was a time when people respected her throughout her continent.
Now nobody bleed when she walked by or waved. Many did not even know that she was even alive. And as the does goes by, she wishes an easy death would find her.
Not that the guards of the Valois mansion would attack her for doing nothing but staring at the house.
No one gives a f***k ab
