Metheea bent over the desk, her eyes heavy from hours of study. The ink on the page blurred, yet she forced herself to trace each line until the words settled into her mind.
The door opened quietly. Kalistra slipped inside with her usual light step. Resme was already at work, surrounded by stacks of ledgers, her quill scratching as she sorted what would need review later at her office while Fiona is still out doing some menial task around the castle.
Metheea could not bring herself to look at Kalistra. Not fully. The memory of last night stung hot beneath her skin, the certainty that her lady-in-waiting had seen too much.
Kalistra moved with practiced ease, lifting the case of jewels prepared for the afternoon.
