Serena held the napkin tightly in her hand as she waited for time to pass. The fabric, once neatly folded, was now creased from how many times she had twisted and pressed it. After a bit more fussing over her, adjusting the collar here, muttering disapprovals there– Livia had finally let her go.. Serena sighed and pushed a strand of hair out of her face.
If it was in Silverstone, her hair would have been tightly bound under a lacy scarf, with one or two trinkets if she felt like it. But here, she would have to leave her hair out. She had fixed it in a small bun, with numerous braids all combining into an intricate style, secured with silver pins at the back of her head.
She looked at the small window. The room was a little one, it was expected, this was a waiting room after all. Serena folded and refolded the napkin over and over again. She had decided against pacing around, sweating would leave her feeling clammy and less confident.
