Amara skipped out the door as soon as the hands of her two handmaidens disconnected from her body. They had just finished dolling her up. Her light auburn hair beckoned behind her waist, adding to the elegance of her red dress. It has been a year now. A year since she had accepted being the daughter of a noble house.
She runs through the corridors; the same corridors that she once thought were strange. Now, they were all but alien. They smelled familiar, looked perennial, and were ultimately peculiar to the noble house. But they were merely passages that led her to her destination. Led her to the Great Chamber where her brothers lay waiting. She could hear the voices of her handmaidens yelling her name, addressing her with respectful words. But she didn't stop.
Amara turned to her right
