Emma VolkovMorning arrived without mercy.Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, bright and invasive, pulling me out of shallow sleep. For a moment, I lay still, listening. The mansion had its own rhythm—guards changing shifts, distant footsteps, the muted clink of porcelain from the kitchens. Life moved on, indifferent to the fact that I was a bargaining chip wrapped in silk sheets.I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tested my ankle. Sore, but better. Healing always brought impatience with it.I dressed carefully—nothing flashy, nothing weak. A fitted black dress the maids had chosen for me, modest but sharp. Armor came in many forms. I brushed my hair back, met my reflection, and made a silent promise not to fracture today.Whatever Lucas meant by eventful, I would not react. Reaction was surrender.The library called to me again.I spent the morning there, perched in a high-backed chair near the window, a book on European power dynamics open in my lap. I actually rea
Last Updated : 2025-12-27
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