Forlorn Hour

Alone in the chamber, Princess Primarosa was fighting back the whirling and brewing anxiety inside her. She paced back and forth at the center of the suite while clasping the old and small leather Rhodopa book in her hands.

Her heartbeat instantaneously pumped out of its rhythm, blaring more of her worry towards the queen, who seemed to be taking a long time talking to Azlan.

“I hope he is not giving the queen a hard time.” She muttered.

As a gust of breeze swept through the wide window, Primarosa suddenly felt the urge to pray. She did what her soul longed for and knelt by the bedside as she said her sincere invocation.