The next morning dawned slow and heavy.
Not like the golden-syrup sunrises Evelisse loved. This one peeked through her curtains like it was shy, soft with mist and silence. There was a hush in the castle—like even the birds agreed something strange had crept in with the moonlight.
Evelisse rolled over and stared at the dollhouse drawer. She could feel it. The weight of it. Like the box was *waiting*.
Snugglewuff snored softly beside her, little legs kicking in a dream-chase. Fluffy floated midair near the windowsill, ears flicking. He'd stayed close all night, unusually quiet.
Evelisse breathed in.
Out.
Today.
Today she would tell her mother.
She slipped out of bed, bare feet padding across the marble floor. Marta had already set out her dress for the morning—a lovely pastel green with pearl buttons and soft cloud-lace at the sleeves. But Evelisse stood in front of the mirror, holding up the dress with a thoughtful frown.
