My bedroom was dark, poorly lit, with only the fireplace as the orange source of light in the darkening day. Still, despite the roaring fire, I was curled up on my desk chair, the only thing I held carelessly in my hand, a glowing mirror.
“I have to say, curled up like that, you look nothing like the strong Empress splashed on all forms of media.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Everyone is allowed s**t days.” I groaned, yet still, I could not find it within me to leave and prep for the dreadful supper audience.
Why I was nervous, I have no idea. Maybe I did, but it would do no good to admit subconscious fears.
“I guess, but you-,”
“So what you are saying is that-,” I interrupted Sofia, but of course, because we were irritatingly similar, she interrupted right back.
“I am still talking, Basili
