The late morning sun poured in through the palace windows, warming the marble halls with a deceptive calm. In one of the royal tea salons, decorated with pastel-colored curtains and velvet cushions, Princess Ariana sat poised like a delicate swan. She wore a soft pink dress, her hair cascading in perfect waves over her shoulders. The tray of sweets before her remained untouched.
Across from her, Valerie sipped from her cup of spiced tea, her eyes cool and distant. Ariana, ever the performer, smiled brightly.
"You know, Valerie," Ariana began, her voice airy and sweet, "it warms my heart that we finally have a chance to speak, just the two of us. I feel like we've been dancing around each other for so long."
Valerie didn't respond immediately. She was too preoccupied watching the steam curl from her tea. Her power had been acting up again this morning, and the tension in her chest hadn't eased.
