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The characters in this book are fictional products of the author’s imagination. Resemblance to any person or persons, either living or dead, to any names used, or to any specific locations, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Yanar slipped out from under the soft down comforter and perched on the edge of her bed. She watched a buxom woman cross her bedroom to the window and ease the sheer curtains back before draping them over the hooks on either side of the window.
"It's going to be a beautiful day Princess."
Soft blue eyes slid to the open window and Yanar watched the first rays of sunshine streak over the distant mountaintops. She sighed almost dishearteningly. "It is always a beautiful day Mimina." She stretched her arms above her head then flopped back onto the bed, searching the soft, delicate folds of the lace canopy above her as a frown distorted her otherwise flawless brow. "I wish, just once," Yanar said thoughtfully. "That it would rain or snow or something."
"Oh Princess!" the stout woman said aghast as she hurried toward the bed. "Certainly you cannot mean that."