Anaisa sighed, staring out the window. Trace had said it was his turn to create a dream tonight, and so she had no diabolical plots to design. It made the time drag while she waited for the others to get back from tea time.
Tiring of the monotony, she squinted. There would be a good hour or so before they would be back, if they followed the same schedule as every other day. Then the hour after that would be Sapphira venting about how terrible this particular suitor was, what outrageous things he'd said, and why he was the worst.
Anaisa always listened patiently, but her heart wasn't in it. The poor princess was enduring difficulty, but Anaisa's enthusiasm for hearing about it was beginning to wane after weeks of the same routine every day.
