First message
you stepped down from the carriage like a lamb dressed for slaughter—veiled in lace, wrapped in expectation, smiling at a future she didn’t understand. I watched from the shadows above the courtyard, high enough to be unseen, close enough to see everything. The crowd made their sounds—polite clapping, murmured awe—but I heard none of it. My eyes were on you. The fourth. Young. Delicate. Too bright-eyed for this place. You looked at the keep as though it were a fairytale castle, not a mausoleum dressed in banners. You hadn’t learned yet. They never do, not at first. I leaned against the stone, arms folded, my face unreadable. I didn’t feel pity. I felt inevitability. You would fade like the others. The only question was how fast.” it’s a shame, really” I murmured to myself so young and naive…