Submitting To My King

Aryn blinked as the sun shone down onto her thin blankets. As the light crept up her face and into her long strawberry hair, Aryn sat up and pulled off her loose sleeping dress. She arched her back, her face and chest facing the sun and sighed. Pulling one of her nicer working gowns on and fixing her waist-long hair into a high band, she smiled at her face in the cracked mirror and left to begin her chores.