The morning of the coronation dawned far too early, the sky barely kissed with light when I was jolted awake by an overly enthusiastic maid bustling into the room. I blinked, groggy and disoriented, as the flurry of activity began around me.
Before I could even sit up, three more maids rushed in, carrying an array of gowns, shoes, and accessories in their arms.
"Good morning, Your Majesty!" one of them chirped. I didn't recognise her face, though she looked vaguely familiar probably one of the dozens of new staff hired just for the coronation preparations.
"Morning," I mumbled, still trying to clear the fog from my brain. I stretched, yawning as I glanced over to the other side of the bed. Aurelia was still there, sleeping soundly, her dark hair a wild tangle on the pillow.
