IRIS

The room smells faintly of lavender and polished wood, mixed with the subtle metallic tang of my jewelry.

My fingers graze the smooth fabric of my gown, heavy and rich with golden embroidery, the silk brushing softly against my skin. Servants bustle quietly around me, adjusting folds of fabric, sliding delicate bracelets up my wrists, fastening the clasp of my necklace with careful precision.

The jewels glint faintly in the morning sunlight, scattered across the polished marble floor and catching in my eyes as I shift.

I sink into the chair near the vanity, letting them work.

My hair is swept back into a simple, elegant braid, twisted with...