Allissa

We dressed for war more calmly than we dressed for parties.

By sunset, our chambers had become a staging ground. My gown, silver over deep blue, the colors of both my bloodlines, waited on its form while two attendants fought a losing campaign against my hair. Darren stood at the mirror in his formal black suit, crown set, the moon cufflinks his daughter had selected catching the light, looking every inch the king and muttering about receiving lines like a man being sent to the gallows. ...