Country: Aurivelle
City: Cressford
Alvara
The first thing I did was open my new sketchbook.
The page stared back at me..blank, stark, unforgiving.
My room was quiet. Mom and Leo had long since gone to bed, and the only sound left in the house was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Tonight, it seemed impossibly loud.
I gripped my pencil tighter.
Grayson Hawthorne’s voice drifted into my mind, unbidden.
Skill alone doesn’t equal competence.
I exhaled slowly, letting the words sink in.
“Fine,” I murmured under my breath.
Then I lowered the pencil to the page.
The first sketch came quickly. A simple outline…a gown with a fitted bodice, a cinched waist, a flowing skirt. My hand moved automatically, guided by habit more than inspiration.
I sat the pencil down and studied
