Aria quickly jogged up to her room, where she took a quick shower, washing away the lingering tension from the morning’s sparring session. She slipped into a pair of fitted jeans and a crisp white blouse, choosing something casual yet refined enough to suit the atmosphere. Her dark hair, still damp, was left loose to dry naturally, cascading down her back as she hurried downstairs.
The dining room was filled with the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. The table was set with an array of dishes—fluffy scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, and a selection of fresh fruits. Her grandmother, the matriach was sat regally at the head of the table, sipping her tea with a thoughtful expression, Aunt Marie next to her scrolled through her phone with rapt attention, delight coursing
