The morning arrived quietly, draped in pale gold and the soft sound of birds settling upon the castle windowsills.
Angela had slept fitfully, waking before the sun had fully claimed the sky. She dressed slowly, taking her time with the buttons of her blouse, her mind wandering to last night — to the kitchen, to the glass of water, to the weight of silence that had hung between her and Zayden like something neither of them dared to name.
She had told herself not to think of him. She had been telling herself that for quite some time now, and quite frankly, she was beginning to resent how poor she was at following her own instructions.
When she finally stepped out of her chamber and made her way downstairs, it was Jennifer who greeted her in the breakfast room, already seated and pouring tea with the ease of someone who had long mastered mornings.
"You're up early," Jennifer remarked, glancing up.
