Chapter 57

s still dark outside when the clock struck the fourth hour of dawn. Yet, Elena was all up already on her boots and dagger tuked on her waist. She left her wet dark hair hang over her shoulders. She smelled her clean jacket and wore it hiding the dagger inside it. Her jacket smelled ripe mangoes on a summer harvest

Pushing the wooden door, she crept to the cold dawn. She seemed very pleased. The morning greeted her and she felt the fresh whisper of the wind in her ears as if singing a morning greeting, touching her scalp like anointing her for a blessed

She sighed. She was no one. Elena de Leon. Granddaughter of the high Datu of Building. Her mother was the heiress of acres of lands which later on will becomes hers. But, she was nothing. Money didn't please her. What she wanted was the open field, running, dancing, singing, and swimming with her folks and with her town peopl

But, no. She was the heiress, the only heiress.