Yara's POV

The silk of Yulia's gown whispered against my skin as I walked through the corridors toward the kitchen. It was a deep emerald green; it used to make me stop and stare when I saw her wearing it.

Now it was mine. Her entire wardrobe was mine, actually. Every dress and every delicate piece of jewelry she'd hoarded like a dragon guarding treasure.

I ran my fingers along the fabric as I walked, feeling the smooth texture beneath my fingertips. It felt expensive. It felt powerful. It felt like everything I'd ever wanted.

The kitchen was bustling when I stepped through the doorway. Steam rose from pots on...