š.š: Lady Oprah
šhe next day came around like a boomerang.
The morning sun peeked through velvet curtains, painting soft stripes of light across Elysia's chambers.
A cool breeze carried the scent of blooming irises and dew-damp stone into the chambers, fresh and crisp. It mingled with the faint aroma of lavender, courtesy of the scented oils Mira had sprinkled onto the linens the night before.
Inside, a subtle flurry of activity unfolded as Mira and Seraphine bustled aboutāadjusting her corset, brushing through the waves of her silver hair, fastening pearl-dotted pins with careful fingers.
Yet, despite the usual routine, something was missing.
Lilietteāin all her heartinessāwas nowhere to be found.
She'd been granted time away from her duties to recover from the trauma she had endured, and rightfully so.
