Heir of the Empire
Moving was never something Quinn enjoyed.
Luckily for her, Gerwald had set her up with a good set of movers, mostly acolytes from the Jutrand Academy. She did have to constantly slap a few sticky fingers that were more interested in what was in the drawers than moving them. Once everything was settled in, she finished a few things. A damp towel ran over the countertops till they were polished and shined. Everyone else would be reporting to work in the morning. Quinn had the apartment to herself for the day and evening.
Having to do things on her own was, at times, nice. Too often, she was dependent on others to do small necessities for her. Today, though, she would have a bit of her autonomy and independence. Her gaze lingered in the foyer, where she had freshly picked roses arranged, filling the room with their sweet aroma. Their crimson petals opened further as she watched them. They were beautiful and something that she could watch forever.
Slowly, she walked over and cupped one of the large blossoms in her hands. Exhaling softly, her heart remembered the cool evenings of Eshan. Closing her eyes, Quinn could see the moon and stars above her as she wandered the palace gardens. The daydream relaxed her; more often, she dreamed of Eshan and her undying desire to go back. Quinn opened her eyes, only to see that the flowers had shifted color; the red faded into blue. Her hands fell as she sighed softly, smiling; it was that time of year to find her way back. Maybe her sister would find time to see her, Quinn doubted it, but one could dream.
She walked away from the arrangement; her footsteps matched the sudden appearance of a black cat. The feline padded gently around her feet, rubbing against her, showing his approval of the home. Quinn walked by the kitchen to grab the cup of tea she had brewed earlier. Fully prepared for a lazy afternoon, the Princess grabbed the latest Lady Velvet novel.
Quinn parked in front of the window visible from the front entrance. She liked the view of the cityscape of Jutrand, and the lighting was perfect for cozying up in the nook to read. Her eyes glanced again towards the door as something told her someone would visit soon. When nothing came, she patted her lap, and the black cat jumped and made itself comfortable. Sipping her tea, she smiled and sighed with contentment.
It was perfect.
It was at that moment that she became indulged in the steamiest part of the book. There was a ring at the door, and the guard allowed someone inside. Quinn didn't look up; she was too absorbed in the scandal of the main characters. She figured it was one of the movers or one of her ladies in waiting; there was no need to look up—just yet.
