The next morning dawned warm and clear, as if the sky itself knew the palace needed a breath of calm after the tension of the previous night. Helena woke with a slightly sore body from exhaustion, but a light heart, as if the air here was different—easier to breathe.
When she came down to the private dining room, she found her: Freya, sitting with her feet swinging from a chair far too tall for her, her braid messy and a smile capable of melting any armor.
“Good morning, Luna Helena!” the little girl sang out, offering a welcome she had repeated nonstop since Helena’s arrival. “Did you sleep well in the room of kings?”
Helena chuckled softly and walked to the table, where warm bread, fresh fruit, and some tea were already waiting.
“Good morning, Freya. And yes, I slept very well. Thoug
