By the time Eliora returned to her chambers that night, her body ached in places she hadn't known could ache.
Combat training had wrung her dry. Not just her muscles, those she expected, but her patience, and her heart.
The door opened softly, and her maids turned at once.
"My lady," one of them said with a warm smile. "Welcome back."
Another hurried over. "You must be exhausted."
"I am," Eliora admitted, exhaling as she stepped inside the room.
They helped her out of her dress, making sure to be gentle, their kept their voices low as though they could sense how thin her restraint already was.
Then one of them suddenly clasped her hands.
"Oh! We nearly forgot," she said. "The seamstresses came earlier."
Eliora blinked. "Seamstresses?"
"Yes," another maid said, already moving toward the bed. "They brought dresses. Several of them."
The covers had been pulled back.
Eliora stopped.
