The early morning in the Aldenar estate was a symphony of soft textures and the muted clink of silver. Inside the Duchess's dressing suite, the air was warm, smelling of lavender water and the crisp, ozone scent of fresh linen.
Brielle stood by the large vanity, her fingers nimbly folding a set of silk undergarments. Across the room, Mina was methodically checking the fastenings on Verona's traveling cloak, her movements precise and military.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Brielle said suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet.
Mina didn't look up, but her hands paused for a fraction of a second. "What is?"
"Us," Brielle replied, gesturing between the two of them with a small, shy smile. "I remember when you actually held a knife to my throat in that alley once. I thought for sure I'd be..."
Mina cut her "Hey, hey. I'm not proud of that, ok?"
"Just promise me you won't do that ever anymore."
