she isn’t your sister. She isn’t actually your ward—” “She is in the eyes of London.” “—and when you promised you would explain the whole debacle, I didn’t… I didn’t expect—” A snap from Islington at her hesitation. “Didn’t expect what?” Her words came like a spear thrown of necessity by a regretful soldier, “Which one are you trying to replace, Henry?”
WOAH.
The sister. DEFINITELY the sister.
Islington and Emma are not in love.
They can’t be.
I refuse.
