Why… why would an impostor have that gaze?
Who is she?
And why does my chest quake with this strange, unwelcome tremor?
As though pondering the same riddle, the Davina before me furrowed her brows and began to advance.
"Your Highness, it's dangerous!" Drake immediately stepped forward, planting himself between us to block her path.
Behind the marble pillars of the palace, courtiers trembled like leaves in a storm, stealing fearful glances at me.
"What in the world is happening?"
"Two princesses?"
"Then… who's the real one?"
Confused whispers rippled through the hall. Dylan's gaze darted again and again between me and the other Davina, as if his eyes refused to settle on a truth.
"Move." Davina's cold glare cut into Drake, an unspoken warning sharpened to a blade's edge.
His fists clenched, but at last his gaze lowered. Like a wounded beast retreating from a fight, he stepped away to give her a clear path.
