Rose stood in front of the mirror while a maid quietly styled her hair into a perfect bun—not a loose one, but a neat, flawless bun. She was already dressed in a robe and a long, delicate nightgown as she prepared for her wedding night with the king.
Then, under the silver glow of the moon, the maid spoke softly.
"Queen Roselina," she said, the title floating gently in the air.
It still felt foreign to Rose's ears—Queen Roselina. So strange, yet something she had to get used to.
The maid continued, "It was brought to our attention that the king mentioned your period, and we were instructed to take good care of you before it ends. That is why we prepared more fruits for you."
Rose's eyes widened slightly. Her heart began to thud in her chest as if it might give her away.
