The morning sunlight filtered through the Evandale manor's tall glass windows, painting the marble floors with a golden sheen. The halls smelled faintly of polished oak and roses, the air heavy with silence that always seemed to cling to the estate.
Lissa tugged at the hem of her fitted dress, irritation flashing across her face. "Damn corsets again," she muttered under her breath, stomping forward. "Who even invented this torture device? If I ever meet them, I'll punch them in the throat."
Behind her, as always, walked Elric. His steps were steady, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor. His gloved hands were folded neatly behind his back, his face as unreadable as a mask.
"My lady," he said evenly, "where are you headed so early, dressed like that?"
Lissa turned her head just enough to glance at him, smirking. "Out. I wanna see the city. Talk to people. You know… breathe air that doesn't smell like expensive roses for once."
