29 November, 1354. Westerhaven Palace, Islia.
Violet was standing in front of her enormous mirror, frowning as her maids adjusted her gown, when there was a knock on the bedchamber door.
"Who is it?" Violet asked irritably. She scanned her reflection critically, unhappy with the way the new dress sat on her. Every child seemed to curve her belly and widen her hips more.
Sancia bounded in, looking infuriatingly slim and dainty in her own gown. The younger girl gave a shallow bow. "How are you, sister? I've been waiting for your confinement to finally end, to talk to you about something important. I don't know why I wasn't allowed in your room before your month was over."
Because I specifically told my maids I didn't want to see your irritating face, Violet thought to herself. She'd run out of excuses for avoiding her younger sister though, so she waved her maids out.
"What is it, Sancia?"
