The silence that followed Verona's greeting was thick enough to choke on. Marien stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape, looking every bit the colorful, gaudy bird Verona had just painted her to be.
Verona didn't wait for a response. With a grace that felt as natural as a shifting tide, she turned back to her guests, her smile shifting from the sharp, icy edge she had shown Marien to a warm, welcoming glow.
"Please, everyone, be seated," Verona announced, her voice projecting with a steady authority that brooked no argument. "The sun is high, and the tea is at its peak. We have much to discuss and even more to enjoy."
The seating arrangement was the first calculated strike, a map of Verona's new world. At the head of the main table, Verona took her place, flanked by the women who now formed her inner circle. To her immediate right sat Isella, the sharp-tongued sister-in-law who acted as her shield. To her left sat Yelena, her dear mother-in-law.
