Mira had been looking for the seamstress.
A simple errand, really. One of Eris's gowns needed adjustments before the wedding, the hem catching awkwardly when she walked. The head seamstress had mentioned she'd be working in the eastern wing today, somewhere near the preparation chambers.
So Mira walked those corridors with purpose, passing guards who nodded at her now that she'd been recognized as the future Empress's primary attendant. She turned a corner, spotted the preparation hall ahead.
The door stood partially open.
And voices drifted out.
Mira slowed. Not intentionally eavesdropping, not at first. But something in the tone caught her attention. That particular cadence of women who thought they were speaking privately but weren't quite quiet enough.
She recognized one voice immediately.
Lady Isolde.
