Aria's pov

　　I picked myself up from the floor, it was not a place for me. Staying on the floor meant that I have been defeated and that cannot just happen.

　　Isabella would have the final victory and I would lose. I will not lose.

　　My hands moved with the deft precision of someone accustomed to handling delicate tasks. Despite the rugged exterior honed by years in the army, my fingers danced nimbly over the fabric of my dress, pulling the needle through ...