ZURI

Amelia sat before me on the rug with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her blue eyes wide and earnest.

She looked so small, so frail, but there was a glow in her gaze that spoke of something unshakable: Loyalty. That kind of devotion wasn’t learned; it was born.

“My Lady,” she said softly, “you saved me. I owe you my life. I only want to know what pleases you, what displeases you, so I can serve you the way you deserve.”

I waved a hand, cutting her off before she could ...