Lilliana reclined in a chair of carved ivory; the wine in her glass caught the amber glow of at least a few dozens of floating candles. Behind her, two servants worked massive feathered fans in slow strokes; the breeze carried the faint sweetness of magical incense.
On the table to her right, an arrangement of fruits glistened.
Glowing grapes, sun-peaches with skin like spun gold, and even night-plums that seemed savoury.
Delicacies within the Grey Realm. Rarities worth a generation of a commoner's wealth.
She ate one of the glowing grapes and tasted nothing special. Mediocre. She had eaten better from the roadside stall back in her own realm, and that fruit hadn't been trying so desperately to impress her. Or perhaps this was because of the sourness that she was feeling right now.
Naturally, her mind was elsewhere.
Davina's voice still echoed in the hollow of her thoughts.
