It took a full week for news of the attack launched by the Kingdom of Velys to reach the imperial capital. At a sensitive moment when the Emperor was unwell and unable to meet anyone, with undercurrents swirling throughout the capital, this news was like dropping a heavy deep-water bomb into a lake.
Night had fallen. In the Third Princess's chambers, Astrid, draped in a pure black silk nightgown, pored over a letter beneath the lamplight.
She propped her cheek with one hand, fingertips lightly tracing the paper. Her two smooth, bare legs crossed elegantly, the soft skin pressing together like finely scattered snow. Her delicate feet were hidden within slippers, revealing only the round, gleaming heels and exquisitely alluring ankles. Fresh from a bath, her pale skin shimmered faintly with moisture.
