Thessara barged into the room, the door squeaking loudly behind her. Her eyes landed on Jocelyn, who sat by her vanity, surrounded by five maids. Some were brushing her hair, some were painting her nails, and some were kneeling with a glass of juice.
Thessara scoffed, shaking her head at the barbaric display of power happening.
Jocelyn turned to face her sister, her brows raised lazily as she laid eyes on her. She let out a sigh, clearly showing how unimpressed she was.
"Out," Jocelyn said to the maids, waving them off with a single lazy hand. Her voice was calm, casual, and unbearably smug.
The maids bowed quickly and scurried past Thessara, their eyes filled with fear.
Once they were gone, Jocelyn returned her attention to her reflection, brushing her recently dyed black hair back into place. "To what do I owe the pleasure, sister?"
