For a fleeting moment after Atticus left, silence pressed close around her. The soft hum of the courtyard below faded, leaving only the faint rustle of silk and the rhythmic click of Lady Cassia's heels approaching.
"Come," Cassia said gently, gesturing toward the low table at the center where the silver trays waited.
Anneliese lingered near the railing for a moment, the terrace wind tugging lightly at the hem of her dress, before finally moving toward the seating.
Cassia's voice was smooth, controlled, yet filled with command. "Sit. We will not accomplish much standing and staring at the courtyard like idle birds."
Anneliese hesitated only a moment before lowering herself onto the highly cushioned couch. Her hand rested on the polished arm, cool beneath her fingers. The glasses of dark red and orange liquid and the delicate pastries seemed almost ceremonial, a prelude to something heavier.
