Meredith.
As I settled into my chair at the breakfast table, my eyes—unfortunately—locked with Wanda's.
There it was again. That smug, self-satisfied smile she'd been parading around for the past two weeks like it was permanently stitched to her lips.
Honestly, I wished half her face would go numb or into full-time paralysis from all that grinning. Maybe then she'd finally find some humility.
I looked away, refusing to waste more of my morning staring at someone who thought causing pain was a hobby.
Just then, the double doors opened and Draven walked in.
Everyone immediately stood. Even the servants straightened up like soldiers answering to their general.
For a fleeting second, I considered remaining seated—letting him see how little his presence meant to me now—but I wasn't about to hand Wanda the satisfaction of seeing me act like a petulant child.
I rose to my feet with the rest, but not because I wanted to.
