Chapter Eight.

SERAPHINA'S P.O.V.

I sat by the ornate mirror in my chambers, absently staring at my reflection as Leana brushed my long, black locks in front of the ornate mirror in my chambers. The morning sun cast a pale glow through the silk curtains, illuminating the chamber; it filtered through the open windows and painted a warm glow of it's gentle hues on my distressed face.

The confrontation with the prince lingered in my mind like an unwelcome specter as it did not disappear with my sleep the previous night. In the pale light of dawn, I'd found myself tossing and turning, haunted by the words that the prince had spoken the previous night. The words he spoke lingered like a bitter taste, unraveling my carefully laid plans for our union.

Ever since the prince had angrily slammed the door to his chambers behind him, leaving me reeling with shock and anger the night before, I had become tangled in the threads of my own thoughts. The night had been an abyss of sleeplessness, haunt