Melania shifted her gaze away from her reflection in the mirror, her brown eyes lingering momentarily on the tiny glass bottle of flowery perfumed oil adorned with a round golden cap. A pervasive sense of emptiness gnawed at her chest, weighing down her mind with restless thoughts.
'It's been two weeks already... Yet I still feel as uneasy as ever. The Royal Family appears pleasant enough, but the Crown Prince... He has not joined us for dinner even once. I understand he must be busy, but to keep me waiting for so long to share a meal... It is rather rude, to say the least.'
Her attention shifted to Loraline, who was diligently arranging the princess's soft, curly hair into an elegant hairdo, revealing her graceful neck and shoulders. With deft hands, Loraline secured tiny pins between the locks, ensuring they stayed in place.
