Sapphire’s Pov
I groaned, turning over the page of the book I was reading. I wasn't much of a reader; I’d never brought myself to like art when I was young. So, me reading was a clear sign that something was wrong—and "wrong" being that I was bored out of my skin.
I hadn’t seen Alberto in days, and the maidservant he had provided to keep me company was, well, uninteresting.
I glanced in her direction, where she was seated on a chair near the bay window, sewing something. She was always either sewing, scrubbing, or cleaning, and I wondered if she really had that much work to do all the time, or if she was just doing it to keep herself busy.
I sighed again, returning my attention to the book. My suite felt more and more like a prison every day that passed—a reminder that I had failed my
