A Sister's Reckoning

The grand hall, usually alive with the murmur of courtiers and the clinking of silver, was eerily silent. Bianca stood at the polished oak doors, her knuckles white where she clutched the velvet of her gown. Across the vast space, Isodole watched her, her expression a mixture of apprehension and a nascent, steely resolve. The air crackled with unspoken accusations, a storm brewing within the gilded cage of the palace.

"You… you are her," Bianca finally choked out, her voice a thin thread of disbelief. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of eighteen years of assumptions.

Isodole took a hesitant step forward. "Bianca, I never wanted this. I only wanted to find out what happened to my parents."