Crimson Moon Bound To The Lycan King
Zephyra
“You should smile more, Consort Zephyra,” Roxy says, even though I am already smiling as much as my face will allow.
My mouth aches. There’s a faint sting at the corners from holding the expression for too long. I am almost certain that if I force it any further, my mouth might actually split. And for what reason, really.
The gazebo is peaceful, too quiet. The soft rush of water from the nearby fountain fills the space, joined by the cheerful songs of colorful birds darting between the trees. It should be calming, something beautiful to admire.