Thoughts Of Colors

ATHENA'S POV.

I had just taken a shower, and had put on a nice, light nightgown with strings as hands.

My hair was wet, and I tapped around on my desk in front of the mirror for the blow drier.

It was something I could do myself, and didn't need to bother the maids.

I found the blowdrier, and reached out with my hands, bending, so I could find a chair I had bumped into earlier. Despite my outstretched hands, I bumped into it again, and bit my lip hard to refrain from yelping, and causing the maids to rush in.

Then I sat down on it carefully, and began to blowdry my hair. Shortly, a swift knock sounded on my door, and before I had time to make a reaction, the door had burst open.

I got to my feet in alarm, and scooted backwards, not minding if I crashed into anything.

Since I had been at the palace, no one had ever barged in, in such a manner.

Had a burglar found his way in? Worse, an assassin sent from Alpha Jeremy or any of my enemies?

"Sorry. It's me." It was Tristan. Why was he