The morning light was not bright, filtering through the curtains and draping all colors in between black.
In the empty room, Victoria sat alone on the chaise longue, wrapped in a gray-white gauzy shawl, her eyes fixed on the mist that hadn't dissipated outside the window.
She didn't fix her attire nor summon her maid, but leaned quietly.
The moment she decided to separate rooms with her mother, she felt as if an eighteen-year weight pressing on her heart had finally been lifted.
Yet when she was alone, she always felt an emptiness in her heart, her chest twisting in pain.
The shackles of the Kensington System were gone, and she had gained freedom.
But at the same time, after losing her father seventeen years ago, she had now severed ties with her mother as well.
The world seemed vast and empty, leaving her all alone.
She took a slow breath, as if inhaling an entire cold morning.
The air was damp and stagnant, even her breath exhaled without a hint of warmth.
