Chapter 89: The Copy of Love

The clone of Thessaly was perfect. Same eyes. Same lips. Same sword style.

Even Liss hesitated.

"Is that you?"

The clone smiled.

"Of course."

But then it said:

"Do you still doubt her?"

And Liss froze.

Because real Thessaly never asked that.

They fought. Fast. Brutal.

Liss couldn't win. But she could remember.

"She held me when I couldn't cry," she whispered.

"She never needed to be reassured.

She just stayed."

The clone cracked. Broke.

And real Thessaly walked in.

"Nice job, love," she said. "Next time punch first."