For a moment, Adala said nothing, biting her lower lip as she soaked up the warmth of Charlotte's hand on her knee, or what little of it she could feel through the layers of her warm, winter skirts.
The dress she wore, rich burgundy wool with embroidered apple blossoms meant to invoke a sense of her family's impressive orchards, conspired with the corset around her waist to keep her sitting tall, proud, and ever so slightly aloof, even when she wanted nothing more than to slump into her friend's embrace and let the day be over even though it had just begun.
At least she could feel the weight of Charlotte's touch through the heavy wool, even if she wanted more. When it came to Charlotte, she always wanted more. Yet, even as the temptation to lean into that touch grew within her chest, along with a strong desire to accept Charlotte's offer to accompany her to meet with Lady Ashlynn, a sudden chill seized her heart.
