Celia made her way back to her apartments, books in arms. Her maids were already waiting for her, as was the ever faithful Sabine.
The lady-in-waiting immediately spotted the ink stains on Celia's fingers and frowned in distress. "My lady, your hands! We should scrub them clean right away." With that, she gestured for a maid to go fetch soap and water.
"Calm down, Sabine." Celia said languidly. "It's just a bit of harmless ink. Better than you all seeing me with hands splattered in blood, isn't it?"
Several pairs of eyes stared back at her, agog. Celia wanted to roll her eyes in response.
Seriously. Why was she surrounded by such uptight souls, without even a shred of a sense of humour?
She on the other hand, felt flooded with wonder and curiosity, like her very insides were alight with the glow of a thousand candles. She'd discovered a physical connection with another soul she hadn't known could exist before.