The day opened with noise. Even though the west wing wasn’t attached directly to the main mansion, Valentina could hear it from her bed: ladders clattering, men’s voices calling to one another, the scrape of heavy furniture being dragged across polished floors. Every so often Nancy’s voice cut through loudly, angrily, precise, leaving no room for whatever confusion was growing.Val lay on her side, blankets tucked under her chin, listening. For a moment she thought it was almost comical, how her birthday was being treated like state business. A coronation, not a party. She padded out to the balcony, brushing hair from her face, and looked across, when she couldn't see much, but Staff streamed in and out of the west wing to the side.She had to go out to take a peep.Rolls of deep carpet were being unrolled across the ballroom floor, chandeliers lowered for cleaning before being lifted again, tall arrangements of flowers rejected with a single tilt of Nancy’s head. Florists, sound tech
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