The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the dining hall, catching the edges of polished silverware and the steam rising from plates of breakfast.
Selena sat at the table with the triplets flanking her, their eyes sharp and alert, and across from them sat Silas and Loretta.
A quiet tension hummed beneath the surface, the kind of weight that came from unspoken history and recent upheavals. When a servant placed a plate in front of Selena—a simple meal of eggs and toast—Loretta leaned slightly forward, a sly smile playing at her lips.
"Have you forgotten, Selena?" she asked, her tone honeyed but sharp. "Your wedding is only days away. You really should be taking your herbal tea—it helps the skin, the hair… everything, you know, for the dress."
