Fleeting Warmth

Camilla turned calmly from the marble kitchen counter. "Good morning, Vivian."

Beatrice strutted into the room right behind her sister, her loud, mocking laughter echoing off the walls and filling the spacious kitchen. "Morning, our Honorable Maid. You really are something else, aren’t you? Cooking this early. Trying to impress Roman with your domestic skills?"

Camilla ignored the vicious sneer