Anastasia’s POV
The door creaked open, and my hand maid stepped inside.
"My Luna," she said, her voice soft and friendly.
"I have brought your evening tea."
She placed the tray on the small table near the window. I found myself studying her. She looked more drained than she usually did. I realized immediately that she was sick. Possibly cancer. A pang of guilt raked my core. I was so hell bent on leaving this place, I haven’t really treated her like a person.
"What's your name?" I asked, the question catching her off guard.
She blinked, her eyes widened in surprise. She definitely reminded me of High Priestess. It’s kind of crazy how alike their souls were.
"Elaina, my Luna."
"Elaina" I repeated.
“That's a pretty name." A faint blush crept up her cheeks making her look youthful.
