ake of a

est daughter, had failed them. She had failed her family and her younger sisters as well. She had failed to embody bo

'exalted' Lenton name. A name that had stood untarnished for generations until she had

same thing. Instead, like the dutiful daughter that they had all claimed and decided she was not, she sat back and endured it all. Sitting thro

obnoxious than Malisha was. Still, she was quite lovab

had a way of compelling her mouth shut to the point that the little disciplinary committee had

none of this was new to her. They had already been down that road several times before, more than several times in fact if she cared

t, after having had so many altercations? However, her thoughts were not a matter that the voice of her conscience was quite pleased about, an

n a bid to further agitate her but was unfortu

orarily formed over her eyes suddenly cleared, exposing her to his trademark glower w

es and tears. But No! She was Malisha. Malisha Kristina Lenton. The great General Lenton's daughter and a person who had already spent most of her o

look that he was now giving her that she had missed out on something important. S

ever, all she got from there was a sob and another round of mutterings ac

round berating. Restarting the mental barrage that had once brought upon her a splitting headache. Another look at her mother and her worn-

e voice remained forever caustic. "I

e did not believe for a minute that th

carf, the wind, the Duke

her. Slowly but surely, the guilt oozed away from her presence, superseded by a wave of great anger and the violent ardor that had once been at the pinnacle of her prev

r mind. Its major objective- To provoke her. It was probably a form o

!" She replied even as she hooked on to that singular thought. Latching on and causing her hea