Morava was standing in her room looking at her reflection. Her maids had dressed her in a gauzy, crimson gown that she had designed for herself. The crimson silk shift inside the gown fell to her thighs, leaving her long legs beneath the veil of red. She raked a finger in her curly, sandy brown hair and blinked her red kohled eyes. Her hair was normally so straight that she loved the artificial curls. Her features were just like her mother's. She had a short, perked up nose set over a round face. It was her cleft in the chin and her hazel eyes that were like her father's.

"You...