Chapter 142: Face it.

Inside the room, Xandros had been standing beside a small table when the sound reached him. He glanced toward Rosaline, who was seated near the dressing mirror, and then crossed the room to answer the door himself.

The moment he opened it, Evelyne’s entire demeanour changed.

The irritation disappeared from her face as though it had never existed. Her shoulders straightened, her chin lowered, and a pleasant smile settled upon her lips. The transformation was so immediate that Christophine almost laughed.

"Your Grace," Evelyne greeted him, curtsying deeply. "Please forgive the interruption. It is time for you and the Duchess to prepare for the royal dinner. Her Majesty has made arrangements for Duchess Rosaline, and I have brought the necessary attendants."

Xandros regarded her without visible interest.

"Very well."

Evelyne waited, perhaps expecting him to invite her inside or express his appreciation for her efforts. When neither happened, she continued hurriedly.

"Her Majesty has also requested that Lily assist the Duchess. Since the girl is already familiar with Her Grace’s personal needs, we thought it would be appropriate for her to attend to the preparations."

Xandros’s gaze shifted past the woman.

Christophine was standing a little farther down the corridor, looking toward a painting on the opposite wall with an expression of complete indifference. She had not even bothered to look at him when he opened the door, which was rather impressive considering how difficult it was to ignore Xandros when he was standing directly in front of her.

His grey eyes rested on her for a brief moment.

Then he nodded.

"Let them in."

Evelyne immediately stepped aside, gesturing for Christophine to follow her. However, Christophine remained where she was, still examining the painting as though she had discovered something particularly fascinating about its frame.

Evelyne’s smile twitched.

"Lily," she hissed under her breath.

There was no response.

"Lily!"

Christophine slowly turned her head.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Come here."

"Of course."

She approached with unhurried steps, and Evelyne caught her by the arm, giving her a sharp tug that sent a fresh wave of irritation through her. Christophine glanced down at the hand gripping her sleeve before lifting her eyes to the older maid’s face.

Evelyne released her almost immediately.

"Pay attention," she whispered fiercely. "You are here to work, not to wander about admiring the walls."

Christophine offered her a pleasant smile.

"Understood."

One day, she promised herself, I am going to bury you myself.

For now, however, she stepped into the chamber without another word. The other maids followed with the garments and accessories, but Evelyne remained near the entrance long enough to bow once more to Xandros.

"If there is anything else Your Grace requires, please do not hesitate to inform us."

"There is nothing else," Xandros replied.

His tone was not rude, but it left no room for further conversation.

Evelyne bowed again before retreating. The other attendants soon followed her out, leaving the room considerably quieter than it had been moments earlier.

Xandros closed the door and turned toward Rosaline.

She was watching him from beside the dressing mirror, her white hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Her expression was difficult to read, although there was a faint trace of amusement in her green eyes that suggested she had noticed something about the exchange at the door.

He walked toward her.

"I will return shortly," he said. "I need to do something before dinner."

Rosaline gave a small nod.

"All right."

It was a perfectly ordinary response, yet the conversation ended almost as soon as it began. Neither of them attempted to prolong it, and Xandros did not appear inclined to ask why she had been so quiet during their journey or why she had avoided speaking to him whenever possible.

Perhaps he understood that she was not ready to talk.

Perhaps he simply had nothing to say.

Rosaline watched him turn toward the adjoining dressing area before shifting her attention to Christophine, who had been surveying the room with the expression of someone who had endured an unnecessarily exhausting journey and was now considering whether the bed was large enough to accommodate her displeasure.

The moment Xandros disappeared from view, Christophine released a long, dramatic sigh.

Then, without asking permission from anyone, she crossed the room, lifted the edge of her skirt, and threw herself onto the enormous bed.

The mattress dipped beneath her weight.

She spread her arms across the soft coverlet and stared up at the carved canopy above her as though she had just discovered the greatest luxury in the world.

Rosaline turned at the sound.

For a moment, she simply stared.

Then a chuckle escaped her.

"Christophine!"

"What?" Christophine asked innocently, turning her head toward her. "I have been working very hard."

Rosaline raised an eyebrow. "Working hard? You have only just arrived."

"Precisely. And I have already endured an experience that has tested the very limits of my patience." Christophine placed one hand over her chest and sighed again. "If I am expected to survive the remainder of our stay in this palace, I must take proper care of myself."

Rosaline’s smile widened.

"What happened?"

Christophine lifted herself onto her elbows, her expression changing at once from theatrical exhaustion to genuine annoyance.

"Your palace has a most unpleasant servant."

Rosaline’s amusement faded slightly. "Which servant?"

"The maid. Evelyne." Christophine rolled her eyes. "She appears to believe that the royal brooch pinned to her uniform grants her the right to speak to everyone as though they were born solely to obey her."

Rosaline looked down at the garments arranged beside the mirror.

"Evelyne has always been like that," she said quietly. "She has served the Queen for years."

Christophine turned her head fully toward her.

"And you have had to deal with her?"

"Occasionally."

"Then I sincerely admire your patience."

Rosaline gave a faint, humourless smile. "You would not be the first person to say that."

For a brief moment, the lightness in the room diminished. Christophine noticed the change in her expression and sat up, her earlier irritation giving way to concern. She knew that Rosaline had memories in this palace she would rather leave untouched, and she could only imagine how many servants had once looked down on her while hiding behind the authority of the royal household.

Still, Christophine had never been particularly good at allowing sorrow to settle for too long when she could do something to chase it away.

She patted the space beside her.

"Come and sit down for a moment."

Rosaline regarded her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"You are not in a position to order me around."

"Then consider it a request from your most devoted companion, who has bravely risked her life by tolerating an intolerable woman."

Rosaline laughed again, this time more freely.

"You are impossible."

"And yet you would miss me terribly if I were gone."

Rosaline did not answer immediately. Instead, she looked at Christophine lying across the bed, at the familiar mischief in her eyes, and at the ease with which she had managed to make the room feel less suffocating.

Then she shook her head, still smiling faintly.

"Unfortunately, you may be right."

Christophine grinned in triumph and flopped back against the pillows.

"Now, before you start preparing for dinner, I must warn you of something. If that woman speaks to me like that again, I cannot promise that Lily will continue to be the quiet, obedient girl everyone remembers."

Rosaline’s smile faltered.

"Christophine."

"I know, I know." Christophine raised both hands. "I must maintain the disguise. I must be careful. I must not draw attention to myself. I have heard it all before."

"Then why do you keep making it difficult?"

"Because some people make it exceptionally difficult to behave like a decent human being."

Rosaline pressed her lips together, struggling not to laugh again.

From the adjoining dressing area came the faint sound of a wardrobe opening, reminding them that Xandros had not yet left the room entirely. Christophine’s eyes flicked toward the sound before returning to Rosaline with sudden interest.

"And speaking of difficult people..."

Rosaline immediately narrowed her eyes.

"Do not."

"I have not said anything."

"You are about to."

Christophine propped her chin on one hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

"Your husband seems remarkably interested in making sure no one inconveniences you."

Rosaline’s expression cooled at once.

"He was only being polite."

"Of course."

"He was."

"I said nothing."

"You are looking at me as though you have something to say."

"That is simply my face."

Rosaline stared at her.

Christophine stared back, entirely unrepentant.

For a few seconds, neither spoke. Then Rosaline turned toward the mirror, determined to put an end to the conversation before Christophine could make it any more unbearable.

"Get up," she instructed. "You are supposed to help me dress."

Christophine groaned dramatically but finally pushed herself off the bed.

"Very well, Your Grace. Let us see what the Queen has selected for you. I can only hope that she has not chosen something hideous."

Rosaline looked at the elegant gown laid out for her, its rich fabric catching the fading light from the window.

"So can I."

Yet even as Christophine approached to help her, Rosaline’s thoughts briefly returned to the man in the adjoining room. They had barely spoken since leaving the forest, and she still had no idea what he was thinking. She did not know whether he was angry with her, whether the awkwardness between them troubled him, or whether he had simply decided that silence was preferable to another uncomfortable conversation.

She only knew that he had stood between her and Queen Vivienne without hesitation.

And she could not quite forget it.

Beyond the chamber windows, the palace bells began to ring, their deep notes rolling across the royal gardens and announcing that the hour of the royal dinner was approaching.

Rosaline drew a slow breath as Christophine lifted the gown from its stand.

Whatever awaited her at that dinner, she would face it with her head held high.

She had spent enough of her life allowing Everbloom to make her feel small.

She would not allow it to happen again.