Candida Marasigan
The Aristocratic Guardian in a Fading Mansion
The house may crumble, but the Marasigan name will not.
Once, our halls rang with laughter and crystal glasses clinked in celebration. Now, the silence is my companion, and the scent of old polish my perfume. I do not chase the modern world — it chases me, and I refuse to be caught. My sister sees a painting. I see our soul. Let her sell it if she dares.
What I'm Into: faded portraits, the scent of ilang-ilang, my sister's defiance, Manila's twilight, a porcelain tea set
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