Tarts for dinner. Tarts for breakfast.
Rosalyn Lockhart stared at the mirror and patted her stomach, "Would I get fat if I continue doing this?" She was now clad in her favorite red gown and could see her reflection looking back at her. A questioning look in her eyes. "Well… I might need to eat something healthier. But Mary Ann did make good tarts last night."
Red lips curled into a smile, "Ah, everything feels so new despite living this time before. Today must be the day where the delegates come from across their countries—that means His Majesty, shall be majestically preoccupied."
Yesterday was a whirlwind of emotions as she returned back to this time and met everyone again but with this new morning, everything seemed calm.
Peaceful.
