Gessia
Never in my life had I been this angry. It burned through me, sharp and unrelenting. First, to be seen as incompetent as though I did not understand my own craft and second, to be proven wrong. I had infused those potions with magic drawn directly from my core. That alone should have made them more than effective.
And yet…
Staring at her felt like staring at a mistake that refused to correct itself. Something flawed that lingered far longer than it should have.
It was almost incomprehensible that she still looked so pale, so visibly sick, as though death hovered just a breath away. The longer I looked at her, the more my anger deepened, coiling tighter in my chest until I turned away and moved to sit at my table.
Breathe, Gessia, breathe. You are not useless. You are powerful, and you do not make mistakes.
Even if everything else fell apart, that was the one truth I refused to let go of. The one thing I would never allow my mother to strip from me.
