Violet
The sitting room smelled faintly of a rich heady perfume and old stone.
The sweet scent curled around me, not overly unpleasant but not too comforting either.
The windows were tall and narrow, letting in pale morning light that never quite reached the corners of the room. Everything here felt deliberately designed to dwarf a person—high ceilings, dark wood paneling, furniture spaced just far enough apart that silence pooled between each piece like stagnant water.
I sat on the edge of a velvet-backed chair that felt far too expensive for someone like me, my spine stiff, my hands folded in my lap to keep them from betraying how badly they wanted to fidget.
Lady Aurelia sat across from me, utterly still.
Her silver hair was pinned neatly at the nape of her neck, her morning gown
