đ.đ: A place to belong
đlysia closed her journal, fingers lingering on the worn leather cover.
She exhaled slowly, watching the fading evening light spill through her windows.
She wasn't sure why, but tonight felt⊠heavy.
Like something had settled deep within her chest.
Something important.
She stood, sliding the journal back into its secret place.
Thenâwithout hesitationâ
She decided.
She would talk to her father tonight.
Before anything else could pull her attention away.
She dressed herself without assistance.
Before the ladies-in-waiting had been assigned to her, she'd always tended to herself.
The muscle memory remained.
She selected something simple but elegant. A flowing ivory gown with delicate silver accents.
The fabric was light, smooth against her skin, requiring no complex adjustments. Perfect for her needs.
She stood before the full-length mirror, fingers brushing over the polished surface.
