“Do you like this dress, Aya?”
Her mother’s voice was soft but Princess Soraya found it grating. She had been in her room for the past week and half, not really a prisoner but possibly worse.
Queen Thora was standing by the door holding up a dress. Meanwhile, Soraya was lying down on her bed, reading a tiny black book with a discreet cover. There was no title or illustrations on it. There was nothing to suggest what it was about. The rest of her scattered library were the same, some taking up space with her on the bed and the rest on growing piles on the floor. Her mother had frowned at the clutter, but did not say anything about how her daughter had become more of a bibliophile. She knew that Soraya hated to embroider or play music. Books were more of her comfort – and her mother wo
