đ.đ: Lady Oprah
đhe next day came around like a boomerang.
The morning sun peeked through velvet curtains, painting soft stripes of light across Elysia's chambers.
A cool breeze carried the scent of blooming irises and dew-damp stone into the chambers, fresh and crisp. It mingled with the faint aroma of lavender, courtesy of the scented oils Mira had sprinkled onto the linens the night before.
Inside, a subtle flurry of activity unfolded as Mira and Seraphine bustled aboutâadjusting her corset, brushing through the waves of her silver hair, fastening pearl-dotted pins with careful fingers.
"You'll do splendidly today, my lady," Mira said with a reassuring smile as she tied the final ribbon on her gown.
"Mhm," Seraphine added, fussing over the hem. "Don't let the tailors push you around. You're nobility, after all."
Elysia exhaled, offering them both a tight smile.
