"My Lady, I think this is not a good idea. Please, I beg of you, rethink this."
Brielle's voice was a frantic whisper, but Verona did not turn away from the vanity mirror. She watched her own reflection with the deep, midnight-blue of the heavy wool cloak she was currently fastening at her throat.
"I don't have that many choices here, Brielle," Verona answered
As she pulled the deep hood over her dark hair, shrouding her features in shadow, the bitter memory of the afternoon flooded back. She remembered the sheer, white-hot frustration that had bubbled in her chest when she had confronted Rion.
