Eleanor Sparza

Who is Eleanor Sparza? I'll tell you.

During her youth, Eleanor was considered a woman of extraordinary beauty. Young men competed with each other for even a glance from her. She seemed destined to live a fairy tale.

But fairy tales rarely survive the real world.

She married a man who seemed perfect: handsome, intelligent, courteous… too perfect. Sometimes the devil doesn't come with horns, but with a kind smile. He sits beside you, says the right words, and makes you mistake his lies for love.

Eleanor was left at the mercy of that man, one who, in reality, never loved her.

She never lost her beauty; she simply ceased to be the young woman he used to boast about. As the years passed, the infidelities began, one after another, until she finally decided to end it all.

It wasn't her.

It was him.

With a few words he repudiated her, stripped her of the surname she had proudly borne, and left her to her fate.

Eleanor, on the other hand, remained motionless among the remains of the life she had built.

With a broken heart and a clouded mind, she walked barefoot along the dirt path. The wind whipped the hem of her dress as small stones stung her feet, but she barely felt it. What hurt most was not losing her husband, but losing everything: her home, her name, the years she had given, and the woman she once thought she was.

Every step carried the weight of regret.

The peasants continued with their work, the merchants packed up their stalls, and the carriages slowly crossed the road. No one stopped; they barely glanced at her before going about their business.

Until the sound of a horse breaking the silence forced her to stop.

The rider gently tugged on the reins and gazed at the woman for a few seconds. Her dress was fine, though covered in dust; her bare feet contrasted with the elegance of the fabrics.