SIGRID

"Yeah, yeah, I know. By the Goddess, you’re so cold. I thought being the youngest, you’d be sweeter," she muttered, speaking hastily. "Now I know why you're Morgana’s favorite. You might as well be her daughter."

"Are you going to spend the entire afternoon babbling nonsense, or are you leaving my room already?"

"I'm going, I'm going. Ugh, such a bad temper. I owe you one."

She finally left, leaving behind a trail of that sickly sweet perfume she always wore, her long black hair swaying down her back.

She was beautiful, like nearly all supernatural beings, but a woman who spoke of her own children as disposable objects could only have a rotten womb and an even more rotten heart.

Besides, Morgana was going to find out—not just because Grimm was her spy, but because Drusilla was terrible at everything, even lying.

I sat on the bed, thinking about my mission. I needed to plan my escape on my own.

The Goddess, as always, spoke in riddles. My task was to find a special man, incredib