Heather
They said she came from nowhere, just a nameless child plucked from the orphanage, with skin kissed by sun and eyes the color of storm-lit fields. The master of the house called her Heather, and from that day the manor was never the same.
She learned what no girl was meant to know, the horse's gallop, the bow's taut string, the flash of the blade - and in the shadows of the great halls, she stirred envy, longing, and fear. Beatrix, the daughter, grew first jealous, then devoted. The servants whispered. And William, heir to the estate, discovered that his duty as lord and his desire as a man could not live side by side.
What began as charity soon kindled obsession. And within the marble walls of the house, where silence rang louder than bells, the name Heather would bind them all - in love, in betrayal, and in ruin.