Arazhan!
She repeated, rolling her tongue over his name to see how it sounded.
Should a joy dance in her eyes as she finally learned his name? Or should she feel sad that every word he had spoken about himself had been a lie?
A sinking feeling gripped her as the truth emerged that he was Aunt Rihritha's son. Doubts had niggled at her since the beginning, as everything about him spoke a mystery. His hands, rough and adorned with knife scars, contradicted any notion of toiling on farmland. Yet, a bigger question loomed: Why is he in disguise? If he had attended the wedding, he should be in the palace, not in secretive hiding.
Rihritha shared in the shock, her senses reeling. The name Rysthan echoed, conjuring memories of her brother, Arathea, the bloodshed rushed back. So, Rysthan and Verna have a daughter? Still, a curious unease gripped her. Why did Mishi's features carry a subtle familiarity to her brother, rather than resembling Rysthan or Verna?