His words are a blunt knife to my chest. “I know.” I choke on the emotion in my throat. “It should have been me. Not her.” Those brown eyes bore into mine. “She was coming to see you, long before being summoned as your seamstress. We had it all planned.” “I don’t understand.” My back hits the grimy wall. “How did you two…?” “Hera was my cousin,” the man says dully. “When I discovered how close you and Adena were, I knew she would help me get into the castle, just to see you.” “Then Hera died in the first Trial,” I recall numbly at the memory of Braxton driving a blade through her invisible
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