I stared at the crisp piece of parchment, my new schedule elegantly written in precise, cursive handwriting that screamed elitism. There was no doubt some poor, trembling scribe had spent hours perfecting each flowing letter, fully aware that even a minor ink smudge could cost them their head because that was just the kind of kingdom we were running here. The seal at the top glittered mockingly, a royal reminder that today officially marked the start of my formal education.
I wasn't excited.
"You look positively delighted," Mara said, peering over my shoulder. Her voice dripped with sarcasm so thick it nearly pooled on the floor.
"Oh yes, thrilled beyond words," I replied dryly, tracing my finger down the list of classes. "Etiquette, Political Maneuvering, Combat Tactics, Diplomacy—"
I paused, blinking slowly.
"Wait," I said, looking closer, dread creeping into my stomach, "why do I have dance lessons? What sort of twisted mind thinks I need to dance?"
