Lydia found Eliana sitting by the window, her gaze lost in the distant hills. The morning light painted her features with a melancholic glow. "My lady," Lydia said softly, placing a comforting hand on Eliana's shoulder. "May I bring you some tea?"
Eliana blinked, as if startled back to the present. A faint smile touched her lips. "Thank you, Lydia. That would be lovely."
Lydia bustled about, preparing a pot of fragrant chamomile tea. The familiar clinking of cups and saucers filled the quiet chamber, offering a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil in Eliana's heart.
When Lydia returned with the steaming cup, Eliana accepted it gratefully, her fingers curling around the warmth. "Did you sleep well, my lady?" Lydia inquired, her voice laced with concern.
Eliana hesitated. "Not particularly," she admitted, her gaze returning to the window. "My thoughts were... restless."