That morning, the sun was already high, its rays slipping brightly through the glass windows of the king's chamber. The air was still chilly, but the sky looked clear, as if mocking a young maid who was now running frantically through the palace corridors.
"Oh no oh no oh no!" Hana muttered in panic, holding up the hem of her uniform skirt so it wouldn't drag as she ran. Her hair was still damp from a rushed bath, her bun tied up messily with only a small ribbon. She'd even forgotten her apron.
Arriving at Mathien's chamber door, Hana knocked quickly and barged in without waiting for an answer.
"Your Majesty! I'm so sorry I overslept again—"
Her words cut off.
Because Mathien was already sitting at the edge of his bed, dressed in a dark satin robe, his hair tousled, and his expression… yes. Cold. Colder than the morning dew in the mountains.
Those icy blue eyes pierced through Hana like needles. "I've been waiting from sunrise until now. Where's the hot water?"
