The second night came swiftly, heavier with heat than the first. The air was thick and suffocating as it wrapped around Davina. She and Gerrick struggled with the larger delivery, their pace slowed by the weight of the crates they were carting through the stone corridors of the castle.
Davina stood by an arched window, tugging at the loose fabric of her dress, which clung to her skin like damp paper. In a pointless attempt to find relief from the heat, she fanned herself with her hand, but was met with no results.
"How do they do it?" she murmured to herself, glancing up at the noble women dancing through the courtyard toward the grand hall. They were draped in layers upon layers of finely stitched silk and velvet, their faces composed and their postures straight. She could barely imagine enduring such discomfort in the heat, and yet here they were, gliding about with the elegance of swans.
