Amelia
They gave me three hours to sleep. Not that it mattered. I tossed and turned the whole time, my nerves burning beneath my skin like static. When the knock came at six sharp, I was already sitting up in bed, staring at the soft gray light pushing through the curtains. I hadn’t dreamed, or if I had, I didn’t remember it. My head felt heavy. My stomach hollow.
Lady Maris was already waiting in the sitting room with the precision of a military general. Two full racks of clothing, a steamer puffing gently in the corner, a tray of lemon-thyme tea, and a folder labeled simply "Presence." She didn’t speak right away. She just circled me like she was evaluating a gemstone for cracks.
"You look pale," she said finally.
"Good morning to you too."
"You’re not there to be pretty," she said,
