The morning light in the Dragon Peaks did not behave like normal morning light.
It poured through the crystalline windows of the guest quarters in shades of gold and rose and something that looked like lavender but shimmered when you moved your head.
It caught on the floating dust motes and turned them into tiny, drifting stars. It made everything look like a painting.
Bai Yue was not admiring the light.
She was standing in front of a polished obsidian mirror, trying to convince her reflection that she was a respectable adult female who could handle having breakfast with a dragon princess.
"You are muttering," Han Shān observed from the bed.
"I'm strategizing."
"You're muttering about how your skirt doesn't fit and your hair is doing something weird and why did you agree to this."
