The peace—if you could call Mina's whirlwind preparations "peace"—was promptly shattered when Lora stormed in like a queen about to declare war.
The door didn't just open. Oh no.
It burst open with the grace of a cannonball.
"Dear sister! Cecilia! How long are you going to keep the empire waiting?" Lora's voice echoed through the chamber, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping impatiently on her hip. Behind her, a trail of nervous maids scampered like terrified mice.
I didn't even blink.
At this point, dramatic entrances were the norm. Lora's signature move.
Mina, naturally, bristled beside me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed dangerously. The atmosphere thickened, the tension palpable.
If I'd had a fan in hand, I'd have waved it and sighed, Ah, another morning in the Arlen household.