The very next morning, Amy and the other palace maids busied themselves around me, preparing me for the day as they always did. Their hands moved with practiced grace, brushing my hair, adjusting the ribbons, smoothing the fabric of my gown. But even through the soft rustling of silk and the gentle clinking of pins, silence lingered. A heavy silence.
They had noticed.
My expression gave it away, subtly sunken eyes, a lack of sparkle in my gaze, a smile too weak to convince anyone. They exchanged uncertain glances behind me through the mirror, a sif hoping the other had some idea on how to lift my spirits. But no one spoke a word. Not until the last ribbon was tied, the last strand of hair curled into place.
I forced a soft smile, summoning evert ounce of charm I had left in me.
