As the first light of morning filtered through the heavy curtains of Raika's room, she found herself struggling to wake up. The bed, with its soft, luxurious sheets, seemed to cling to her, urging her to stay wrapped in its warmth just a little longer. She groaned softly, blinking her eyes open, feeling the weight of the past week's events pressing down on her.
The door creaked open, and one of the maids entered, carrying a tray laden with breakfast essentials—freshly squeezed orange juice, a selection of pastries, and a steaming cup of tea. The maid, a young woman with a kind smile, approached Raika's bedside. "Good morning, Miss Raika," she said softly, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "I brought your breakfast."
