The necklace hung to just below her collarbone, and the pendant rested on her chest. The rose quartz stone heart was just the size of her thumb print, and the gold ring circled it beautifully. Overall, the jewelry was perfectly crafted to fit her and only her.

Kamila Duche, heir to the Rouvelin throne, strode down the streets gracefully, her russet dress bustling out behind her magnificently. She clutched her heart pendant, rubbing her thumb over the smooth quartz surface. She always held it when she was nervous. It reminded her of her mother.

Her amber colored hair was pulled up into a high, upswept bun, and she pushed back one of her escaping curls. Her sea blue eyes pierced through onlookers.

Zen, a large, muscular man in a loose robe stood in the crowd. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. It’s madness! How will we pull it off?”

A dark, mysterious voice answered him. “Oh, we’ll pull it off, alright, Zen. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Yes, master.”