The first thing I hear as I drift back to consciousness is the faint murmur of voices, distant but distinct. There's a quiet rustling, the sound of fabric being handled with far too much care, and the unmistakable clink of jewelry being sorted. My brain, still foggy from sleep, pieces together the clues with mounting dread.
No. No, no, no.
[Oh yes.]
I open one eye. The sky outside my window is no longer golden with the hues of late afternoon but a deep shade of indigo. Night is settling in. And if night is settling in, that means—
[It's time.]
I groan, flipping onto my stomach and burying my face in my pillow. Maybe if I stay still, they'll forget I exist.
[Your family? Forget you? You're adorable.]
Before I can argue with the system, my door creaks open. I don't need to look to know who it is.
"Your Highness," Elira's calm, measured voice cuts through the room like a blade. "It's time to get ready."
"Go away," I mumble into my pillow.
