The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Thalia Blackwood dragged herself out of bed. Her muscles ached from yesterday's training, but she pushed the pain aside. There was no time for weakness, not with the competition looming.
She glanced around her opulent room, a gilded cage that felt more suffocating with each passing day. With a sigh, she began her makeshift training routine. A chair became a hurdle, the doorway a pull-up bar, and the billiard table an obstacle course.
As she balanced on one foot atop a cue stick, juggling billiard balls, she heard a familiar knock at the door.
"Enter," she called, not breaking her concentration.
Marcus Steele strode in, raising an eyebrow at her precarious position. "I see you're making good use of the royal furniture."
Thalia flashed him
