Morning broke over the palace of Noct with a subdued calm that felt deceptive. Pale sunlight filtered through towering windows and. The kingdom looked peaceful from the outside and hopefully it stays peaceful.
Faith stood near one of the tall arched windows in the eastern wing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She stared down at the palace grounds with clear irritation, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. The dress she wore, soft, embroidered, and undeniably expensive—felt like a cage.
She tugged at the sleeve for the third time in a minute.
"I look like a porcelain doll," she muttered. "And I hate porcelain dolls."
Behind her, the door opened.
Alexander entered quietly, his boots barely making a sound against the marble floor. He looked rested only in appearance; he wondered what she was doing her this early in the morning. He didn't announce himself, didn't question her posture or her annoyance. This was his palace so he didn't care about rules.
