Lena's eyes opened to the first light of dawn, seeping through the heavy curtains. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her forcefully that she had not eaten last night. She groaned and pushed the covers aside, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
The room was big and impressive, but it felt almost too cool for comfort. She rubbed her face, winces at the remnants of tears shed during last night's tantrum.
She needed something—anything to distract her from the mayhem. Food. Water. Something. Anything. She grabbed a robe in a hurried breath and wrapped it around her tightly. She stormed out of the room, her slippers clacking softly on the glossy wooden floors.
A maid passed by down the corridor, her gaze lowered in respect, but Lena wasn't interested in the usual politeness.
