Third-person POV
Jella's hands were shaking as she clutched the edge of her dressing table, her perfectly polished nails biting into the wood.
Her breath came sharp through her nose, the fury inside her boiling too hot to contain. She had spent days, not days, years, waiting the perfect opportunity. Electra's sudden collapse had been a gift from the gods, a rare moment of vulnerability she hadn't even needed to engineer herself, and yet, it had all crumbled.
Those meddling little girls that call themselves Electra's friends had ruined everything. Electra had been inches from death, so close to slipping away that all it would've taken was one whisper to Vale. One firm nudge, along with a continuous warning of what would happen if word got out that the crown princess, the supposed heir to Elmeria, was an abomination—a half-human Phoenix.
