[Lavinia's POV – Dawnspire Wing, Afternoon of the Osric's Coronation]
I had faced war councils, sleepless negotiations, and a near diplomatic collapse once… but none of those horrors compared to Sera and her army of maids.
They were waiting for me like predators circling their prey—armed not with blades, but with brushes, pins, and fabrics that gleamed like armor in the morning light.
"Your Highness," Sera said in the tone of someone about to wage holy war, "you are not leaving this chamber until you look fit to outshine the entire court."
I blinked. "You make it sound like I'm going to battle."
"You are," she replied grimly. "Against wrinkles, messy hair, and your own impatience."
Marshi, lounging near the window, gave a lazy growl—low and disapproving. I swear he was enjoying this.
I took one slow, cautious step back, eyeing the line of maids advancing with fabrics and combs. "You all look… disturbingly determined."
