She tried not to make it obvious. She really did.
But as she sat there, Eva's presence kept tugging at her eyes like they had gravity. She had so many questions. What was she doing? Was she doing it well? Was it worthy of this place?
But, most prominent among them:
[How the hell did you get in here?]
"Do you need something, Montecardi?"
Eva hadn't looked up. Her quill kept moving across the parchment, steady and neat, like she was dictating a letter to a very obedient scribe.
Katarina, who had been staring for a solid thirty seconds, recovered in about half a breath.
"Just admiring the view."
Eva turned a page. She still hadn't looked up. Her silver hair fell forward over her shoulder and she tucked it back without breaking the rhythm of her writing.
"If you have a question, ask it."
Katarina considered pretending she didn't have one. Then she decided that was beneath her.
"How did you get in here?"
