Kyria
The morning sunlight streamed through the wide windows of my suite, filtered by soft silver curtains that billowed slightly with the breeze. For a moment, I lay awake beneath the silky covers, hoping to find some clarity in the calm—but that was wishful thinking.
I barely had time to blink before the door burst open with the fury of a hundred thunderstorms.
“You traitor!”
Lassy stood in the doorway, wild curls flying, eyes folded across her chest like a miniature warrior queen.
She was still wearing her pink bunny slippers.
But her face was pure, storm cold.
“What did I do?” I croaked, still half asleep.
She marched into the room with the righteous fury of a betrayed best friend.
“You wore Kathrine’s dress.”
I sat up straighter. “Lassy…”
“No. Don’t ‘Lassy’ me.” She poin
