CHAPTER TWELVE
Luanda stood beneath the torchlight, against the stone wall on the periphery of the courtyard of Silesia, watching the festivities, and seething. There was her sister, Gwendolyn, in the center of it all, as she had always been since they were kids, adored by everyone. It was just like it had been growing up: she, Luanda, the oldest, had been passed over by their father, who had showered all his affections on his youngest daughter. Her father had treated her, Luanda, as if she’d barely existed. He had always reserved the best of everything for Gwendolyn. Especially his love.
Luanda burned as she thought of it now, as she watched Gwendolyn, the charmed one, and it brought back fresh memories. Now here they were, so many years later, their father dead, and Gwendolyn still in
