Sierra's room was exactly what you'd expect from a princess who had never been told no in her life.
Phei had had his fair share of the curves and secrets of enough Legacy daughters by now to recognize the pattern—obscene wealth always announced itself in the same predictable, almost laughable ways.
The canopy bed draped in silk that cost more per thread than most mortals earned in a week.
The vanity cluttered with perfumes and powders that promised eternal youth and delivered nothing but expensive placebo and quiet disappointment. The walk-in closet that was less closet and more a full-blown cathedral dedicated to the worship of fabric and designer labels.
He wasn't surprised anymore. If anything, the sheer excess was starting to feel like a tired running joke.
Sierra moved through the room with the efficient urgency of a woman who had made a decision and intended to outrun her own second-guessing before it could catch up and ruin everything.
