Serenya
The sun hadn’t even climbed past the estate walls when a quiet knock rattled my door. I was sitting at the vanity, absentmindedly combing through my hair, strands falling loose, when the knock came again, more insistent.
I opened it to find a young maid bowing her head so deeply her forehead nearly touched her folded hands. “Madam requests your presence in the main sitting room,” she said, voice trembling.
Again?
“Right now?” My heart began its anxious hammering.
“Yes, madam. She said immediately.”
I swallowed and nodded, slipping into a simple ivory cardigan over my slip dress. The hallway was dim, the sconces still lit along the corridor as the first rays of dawn streamed faintly through the stained glass windows, colouring the marble floors with fractured blue and rose.
