Chapter 272

Mother, sister, or maybe even a distant cousin—her connection to Leonardo was unclear. She looked close to my age, with rich chocolate-brown hair tied back and spilling over her shoulder in a thick braid, glinting with tiny crystals like flecks of starlight. Loose curls framed her angular face, brushing her sharp jawline with elegance. Her attire was both practical and luxurious, a fitted tunic as pale as her eyes, paired with knee-high white leather boots lined in fur at the collar, as though she were prepared to brave a tundra rather than the humid forest. She had the timeless beauty of all Fae, her large, doe-like eyes shimmering with a glacial intelligence that said she already knew who I was. The thought sent a chill through me, wondering what she intended to do with that knowledge. Across her forehead, she wore a silver wreath, crafted from shards that looked like they could draw blood with a touch. She was royalty, that much was certain.