Isabella

I was armed. Armed with the love of a monster and the knowledge of the future. I could sense betrayal hanging near, though it was too vague for me to tell who it would be. But one thing was certain: Cassandra would do something suspicious, and Frederick would try to engage me in conversation.

My steps wanted to falter, but I whispered to myself : “my father did not raise a coward.” The words became my mantra as I began to whisper it in line with the beat my shoes made as the heels clacked against the polished marble.

Voices came from the parlor after I entered the main...