Elvira
I stared at Alpha Jaxon's jacket lying crumpled on the floor, its presence a reminder of the man who left it behind. The royal tailor had left after taking my measurements. The rich scent of tobacco and something uniquely him still clung to the fabric, teasing my senses and muddling my thoughts. With a frustrated sigh, I bent down, snatched it up, and shoved it into the back of the wardrobe, out of sight but not quite out of mind.
"Brielle," I called, my voice sharper than intended.
She appeared in the doorway almost instantly, her ever-present smile faltering at my tone. "Yes, Elvira?"
"Could you help me change the sheets, please?"
Her brow knitted in confusion. "But they were just changed two days ago."
"I know," I replied, forcing a tight smile. "But I'd like fresh ones."
