The morning sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows of the Ivanova Castle's tea room, painting the polished mahogany table in pools of golden light.
Outside, the garden glimmered with dew, roses in muted reds and soft pinks swaying gently in the breeze.
Inside, the scent of chamomile tea mingled with warm pastries, and the soft clink of porcelain punctuated the quiet murmur of conversation.
Four sisters gathered at the table, their elegance impeccable, their beauty distinct—but each shadowed, in some measure, by the youngest princess of the kingdom, Ariana, whose presence—or even absence—commanded attention.
At the head of the table sat Katarina, eldest of the sisters from Lady Mirabelle, the King's second wife.
At twenty-five, her chestnut brown hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, her hazel eyes glinting with intelligence and quiet calculation.
