Mirellie
The older woman exhaled dramatically, the sound carrying all the weight of a woman questioning her career choices.
“I have spent years training young women,” she informed me, her voice carrying the weariness of someone questioning her profession. “Not one of them had to learn the names of Alphas, Lunas, and Elders mere hours before making their public debut. And not one of them thought arriving sleep-deprived was a brilliant idea.”
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms.
“Most of them probably knew they were attending the banquet more than twenty-four hours beforehand.”
Lady Celestine paused. To my surprise, she didn’t immediately argue. Instead, she muttered something beneath her breath that sounded suspiciously like criticism directed toward Evander.
The morning cont
