Chapter 2: Her Last Breath

From the dining room, Ebere's voice rang out again, sweet and melodious, masking her cruelty. "But, Mom, she's my sister, and today is her sweet sixteen, too. I know she's always hated me, always trying to hurt me, but I like her," she said with a mock innocence that earned a chorus of approval. "You all continue here. I'll go and give her some cake."

The room erupted into cheers of praise.

"You're too kind, Princess!"

Ebere left the dining room, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she made her way toward the storage room.

From her place beneath the stairs, Nnenna felt her heart sink. 'Cake? Giving cake to someone severely ill?'

She wanted to lock the door, to keep Ebere out, but her body refused to move. She was too weak. Her muscles wouldn't obey her commands. All she could do was listen to the sound of Ebere's approaching footsteps.

The door creaked open. Ebere didn't bother to knock, of course. She stepped inside, closing it firmly behind her, and turned to face Nnenna with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Sister, I brought you some cake. How are you feeling?"

Nnenna stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

In the past, she might have tried to muster the strength to respond, to maintain a facade of civility. But after everything, Ebere's sabotage, her lies, her cruelty, Nnenna refused to waste her energy.

"Don't be like this, sister," Ebere chided, setting the plate of cake down on a small table and pulling up a wooden chair. "It's my birthday, after all."

voice was soft, but her words dripped with mockery. She tilted her head,

her voice dropping to a whisper. "That's

face contorted, the mask of sweetness giving way to something darker, more

word. "I never liked you. When Father brought you home

called favored daughter of his fallen sworn brother." She sneered, her lips curling

stabbing into Nnenna's

you could, I would never let you. Never. You would be dead before it happened, because

smile. "You can die

to cleanse herself of Nnenna's presence. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to tell

"Happy Sweet Sixteen, sister."

plate of cake onto the stony bed, the icing smearing across the rough

Her face grew calculating, her movements precise. Ebere reached up, scattering her perfectly styled hair into

the edges, and added shallow scratches to her face with her fingernails, enough to appear convincing,

handiwork, she let out a

is

halls as she bolted from the room, tears welling in her eyes as she sprinted toward

time. He lifted her into his arms, allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder

tunic. "She suddenly sprang up and... and hurt me! I-I had to push her away and run

face. He hated noise, and the chaos surrounding this situation grated on his nerves.

King had already barged into the tiny storage room, gasping at the sight before them. Servants flooded the cramped

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