The palace tea room had become Ginia's favorite place.
It was warm, elegant, and filled with delicate porcelain that clinked softly against matching saucers. Sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, painting the floral wallpaper in golden hues. It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Ginia sat at the center table like a queen in her own court, a cup of steaming tea poised gracefully between her fingers. Lydia and Helena leaned toward her, whispering sharply between sips, while Hermia sat slightly apart from them, quieter than usual.
They had been summoned to the palace days ago, and since then, this room had become their territory — a place to gossip, speculate, and subtly complain.
Lydia laughed lightly. "Did you see the way Prince Miquel kept trying to talk to Aliena yesterday? It was almost embarrassing."
Helena smirked. "Embarrassing? Please. It's pathetic how everyone suddenly revolves around her."
Hermia didn't laugh.
Her fingers traced the rim of her cup slowly.
