"Another Clara?" The name fell from my lips as a whisper, but it landed like thunder in the small cottage. "Honoria had another daughter named Clara?"
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Are you certain about this?"
Mistress Sterling nodded slowly, her gnarled fingers tightening around her wooden cane. "As certain as the sun rises. Honoria was clever with her deceptions. The original Clara—her firstborn—was powerful in ways that frightened even her mother."
My mind raced, attempting to connect scattered pieces. "So my stepsister Clara..."
"Was named deliberately," the old woman finished. "Honoria convinced your father to name her second daughter after the first—a cruel joke only she understood. Like replacing one pawn with another on her chessboard."
"This changes everything," Alaric said, pacing the small room. "The Night Weavers aren't after Isabella's sister at all. They're searching for Honoria's secret daughter."
