Chapter 82
Azalea stood before the large mirror, brushing a final stroke of dark liner across her eyelids. The wine she’d had the night before still burned faintly on her tongue, but her head was clear. Her dress was fitted, regal but simple, perfect for the morning’s quiet venture. She adjusted the silver clasp of her cloak and leaned closer to inspect her reflection. Today was not a day for hesitation—every step she took had to appear deliberate, every word sharpened with purpose.
The soft rustle behind her caught her attention. Federico stirred in the massive bed, his hair tousled, his expression fogged with sleep. He blinked a few times before sitting up, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing on her.
“What are you doing so early?” His voice was rough, laced with suspicion.
Azalea sm
