The frivolous thought flashed briefly through Lyra's mind. When she looked up again, Amalia was sitting obediently, her long, jet-black hair cascading beside her calves. Combined with her naturally petite frame, she exuded a uniquely soft, harmless fragility, only seen in the sweetest of little girls.
Maybe she had misjudged things. After all, Princess Amalia had always been fond of clinging to her sister. Staying close a little longer was only natural.
After arranging the game pieces, Lyra sat upright, hugging her knees. The soft bed dipped slightly under her weight, but the gentle indentation didn't disrupt the connected game board.
"Everyone placed? Then I'll roll the dice."
Feeling a warm touch at her ankle, Astrid lifted down and saw her younger sister. She gently patted Amalia's head, then picked up the prepared oak dice.
"Same rules as always..."
