The weather was warm, almost oppressive, despite the air conditioners stationed at strategic corners of the mansion including her room.
After going through the dresses she had been given, Lucrezia finally chose one light enough for the heat.
Even after her bath, her skin still felt damp, her palms faintly sweaty as though her body refused to settle in this place no matter how much comfort it offered.
Once she was dressed, she stepped out of the room and made her way downstairs, moving through the mansion without any clear destination in mind.
She would have preferred to remain indoors and avoid seeing anyone at all, but for someone who had spent most of her life as a surgeon with an impossibly tight schedule, lying in bed and doing nothing felt unnatural.
Almost ridiculous.
By the time she reached the last flight of stairs, Lucrezia began to hear faint voices drifting through the mansion.
