Arabella's POV
The voice was deep. Masculine. But distorted somehow, like they were speaking through cloth or using some kind of mana to disguise it.
This was no mere subject.
"Who are you?" I demanded, trying to sound braver than I felt. "What do you want from me?"
The figure chuckled. "Who I am doesn't matter, dear princess. What I want is simple: I want to help you."
"Why?" I stepped away from the wall, my hand still on my dagger. "Why would you want to help me?"
"Because I know how helpless you feel right now." The figure moved closer, and I fought the urge to retreat. "I know what it's like to be blamed for something you didn't do. To watch as everything you've worked for crumbles around you."
Hmm.
"I see. You say you want to help," I said carefully. "But no one helps for free. What do you want in return?"
There was another chuckle. This one more amused.
