ENORA'S breath hitched as she jolted awake as if startled, her body rigid and her mind sluggish, like she was surfacing from a deep, endless ocean. The air around her was cool, carrying the faint scent of old books and papers that always calmed her nerves. Slowly, her senses returned. Silken sheets beneath her fingers, the soft glow of orange light sitting on her cheeks. The distant hum of a world moving without her.
Bits of various emotions surged all over her as last night's incident drifted back into mind. She sighed in defeat. Sure, she was mad at her sister for using mana on her, But it could not change the fact that Enora's body felt utterly rejuvenated, as though she had been reborn. That too, somehow spite her.
Enora reached for the thick rope hanging beside her bed, the woven fibers rough against her fingers as she gave it a firm pull. A soft bell chimes echoed faintly through the halls, a signal for her personal attendants to prepare her for the day ahead. She leaned back against the plush pillows as she waited for someone to come.
The door was knocked thrice before a soft yet steady voice was heard. "My lady, it's Thalara.".
"Come in."
The door slowly creaked open. A petite yet tall figure entered the room.
"Forgive me for taking too long." There was a hint of deference in her tone, a subtle layer of respect that never crossed into servility. Yet beneath the surface, there lingered an almost maternal care—gentle but firm, capable of offering comfort.
"Don't fuss over a few minutes. Help me get ready, lest I arrive late to the tea party that lady Sylvana is hosting."
Thalara obeyed without uttering any words, her hands swift and precise as she carried out Enora's instructions. Her movements were fluid, practiced from years of service, and her expression remained serene—a mask of quiet professionalism that betrayed neither curiosity nor doubt.
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As Enora rounded the corner of the grand corridor, her hurried steps faltered when she nearly collided with the Queen. The woman stood poised, her regal bearing radiating an air of effortless authority that seemed to command the very stones of the castle. Her silver-embroidered gown shimmered faintly in the morning light, the intricate patterns catching the eye, but it was her presence—calm and unwavering—that truly held one's attention. Though startled, the Queen betrayed no impatience, her piercing gaze softened only slightly by a trace of reserved grace, as if to remind all who beheld her that compassion, too, was a form of strength.
"Princess?"
"Where are you headed to in such a hurry?"
"Mother—" Enora was caught off guard when her mother, the Queen, appeared out of the blue. She didn't even realize the Queen was making her way towards the direction she came from. What could she be possibly seeking for at the second floor West wing of the castle? It is, after all, filled with bedrooms, a playroom, and a reading room that's frequently used by you and your siblings.
"I was thinking of going to Lady Sylvana's tea party."
"Is it urgent?"
"...No. It's just the usual occasion. Is there something you need for me?"
"Well, I do have something to tell you. Which is why I came here. But seeing you already dolled up makes me not keen on stopping you. Be back before lunch." The Queen's lips curved into a gentle smile as she admired her daughter, radiant in her beautiful dress and elegantly styled hair.
"You look beautiful. I'm glad you finally left your desk." The Queen turned and began walking back in the direction she had come, letting go of her earlier purposes.
Enora stood dumbfounded, her curiosity piqued. What could be so important that her mother had personally come to find her instead of summoning her through an attendant?