Nevara
Breakfast at the royal estate was rarely boring, but today? It was delicious.
Sabrina twirled into the room with a tray piled high with fruit, croissants, and a pitcher of something citrusy that was definitely spiked. “Rise and gossip, girls!” she sang, placing everything on the table like we were her queens and not just two mildly tired women bracing for wedding binder Armageddon.
Michelle rolled her eyes and followed her in, arms stacked with her infamous planning folders. “Just remember, the wedding is three weeks away, not three years. We don’t need ten binders.”
“Yes we do,” Michelle said sweetly. “Now sit.”
I sat. Because I knew better than to argue with either of them.
“I saw Kael talking to a very handsome stranger last night,” I said, popping a berry into my mouth.
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