A surge of anger coursed through me at the mention of Gabriel's name. That bastard had always held a contemptuous air toward me, even since our childhood. He took pleasure in making fun of me, especially because of my mother's unfortunate demise. He spread malicious rumors, claiming that she hailed from the slums. And now, even after all these years, people still believed his lies.
"Hey, Elenore," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know you won't accept this peasant, but let me hear you out." I locked eyes with him, my face displaying unwavering determination. "Okay," I replied, my voice steady. "I accept to marry him."
"That doesn't change the fact that she's your sister," I asserted, my voice brimming with conviction. Love and kinship intertwined, challenging the boundaries of our relationship and compelling us to confront the complexities of our intertwined lives.