Morning arrived dressed in sunlight and tension.Elara stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the elegant pastel dress laid out for her. She hadn’t chosen it. Of course not. Adrian’s assistant had along with the heels, the jewelry, even the way her hair was meant to fall.She stared at her reflection.Polished. Poised. Someone else.“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.As if summoned by the complaint, Adrian appeared at the doorway. Dark suit. Crisp shirt. That composed expression like emotions were a language he’d politely declined to learn.“You’re late,” he said.She turned sharply. “I’m on time. You’re just early.”A pause.