When late morning arrived, the sky became a bit cloudier. The golden sunlight that had filled the reception area softened, diffused through a thin layer of pale gray.
Cecilia was invited to sit on a rooftop, tucked under a large fabric canopy that rippled softly in the breeze. The space was open but sheltered, furnished with comfortable wicker chairs arranged around a low table.
Potted lavender lined the edges, their faint fragrance mixing with the cool, clean air. A bit more of a private but also relaxing place.
She was alone for now. Lilyca had been whisked away by her priest attendants for her morning lessons. Just ordinary lessons any eight-year-old would receive, mathematics and language arts and, well perhaps handwriting drills? Things third graders do these days.
