Raya straightened almost instantly.
Not because she was afraid.
Not because she was startled.
But because the name carried weight.
"Seraphina."
That voice was different.
It wasn't like Camilla's sharp mockery, dripping with jealousy and poorly hidden resentment. It is the carefully measured tone of someone who knew exactly how much respect to give and how much to withhold.
This voice was softer. Smoother.
Carefully trained to sound harmless, while carrying expectations beneath every syllable.
Raya turned slowly.
Amelia Blake stood before her.
Tall. Elegant. Effortlessly composed.
She wore a cream silk dress that fell perfectly against her slender frame, the fabric flowing with quiet confidence. The cut was simple, almost understated, yet unmistakably expensive, the kind of luxury that didn't scream for attention because it never had to. Her hair was pulled back neatly, exposing her delicate features. Her makeup was minimal, refined, enhancing rather than transforming.
