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Weekly Contest #347
Cassandra. She shakes her head. C…a…s…s…a…n…d…r…a, her inner voice slowly articulates each letter. Her own name feels alien, as if belonging to someone else entirely. She stops in the middle of the hallway, looking past the stone gargoyles serving as sconces. No one else ever comes to this part of the castle. Her own personal quarters, as the king framed it. More like prison, she scoffs. She should have known things weren’t as they seem. The signs were there, even more painfully obvious now that she looks back on her life.Cassandra. The litt...
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