Amelia sat in the dining room, playing with food, waiting for King Cyrus to arrive.
"Princess, why don't you start eating? King Cyrus might come a little late," Miss Quinn said.
Amelia didn't look up or address the head of the maids. She was busy with her thoughts.
Everything going around her, everything going with her, it confused her.
She thought she would've her life sorted because she loved it once, and only minuscule changes won't make a drastic difference and will only bring her happiness.
But her life became more unpredictable.
She didn't know when it started, but something was different with her. Was it from that dream where that hooded figure touched her hand and gave her this weird mark? Or did it happen even before that?
Miss Quinn looked at the chef, who had the same concerned expression.
They were well aware of her injury and wondered if she was thinking about the same incident.
