Ilaria stood there for another moment, watching the leaves as though they might betray the secret they had briefly suggested. But the branches had already settled back into their lazy morning stillness, swaying only when the breeze passed through.
After a while, she exhaled softly and shook her head, almost amused with herself. Perhaps it had only been the wind catching the wrong angle of the foliage. The solarium was old, the glass panes uneven, and the garden outside had always been fond of whispering to itself.
"It's nothing," she said finally, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Just the plants conspiring to scare me."
Kathryn studied the greenery for a second longer, then relaxed when nothing stirred again. "If the plants start plotting, Your Highness," she said dryly, returning to the table, "I fear we have far larger problems than the Council."
