Selara was seated by the tall window when the knock came.
She hadn't moved in a while. The curtains were half drawn, moonlight spilling across the polished floor, touching the hem of her gown like a quiet apology. Her expression was calm too calm. The kind that came when emotions were pressed down so hard they stopped fighting back.
"My lady," the maid said softly, head bowed. "Dinner is ready."
Selara turned slowly. "Thank you," she replied, voice even. No hesitation. No irritation. Nothing sharp enough to betray what churned beneath.
The maid lingered, clearly expecting more a question, a delay, some sign of distress. Selara offered none. She rose, smoothing her dress, posture flawless.
"I'll come now."
The walk to the dining hall felt longer than usual.
Every step echoed. Every breath felt measured. She reminded herself to keep her shoulders relaxed, her chin lifted. If anyone expected her to crumble tonight, they would be disappointed.
The doors opened.
