"What would you say," Queen Astrella asked softly, lifting her porcelain teacup with an elegance that felt rehearsed, "to your freedom… today?"
The words hung between them, fragile as spun glass.
Aurelia did not answer immediately.
She sat very still, both hands resting in her lap, fingers intertwined so tightly that her knuckles had gone pale. The warmth of the tea seeped into the air, carrying a faint scent of bergamot and something sharper beneath it....clove, perhaps. Or iron. She couldn't tell why the room suddenly felt colder, why the sunlight streaming through the tall windows seemed to dull, as though the world itself were holding its breath.
Freedom.
The word echoed in her mind, unfamiliar in this place, almost dangerous.
She lifted her gaze slowly to Queen Astrella's face. The queen was smiling....kindly, serenely, but the smile did not reach her eyes. Those eyes watched Aurelia too closely, as though waiting for a wrong answer, or perhaps hoping for one.
