Guards and servants bowed their heads, respectfully as Lina and the Duchess made their way to the study.
Then upon reaching, the Duchess twisted the knob and opened the door, motioning Lina to come in.
Click!
Then she closed the study door behind them with a gentle click.
Warm light streamed in from stained glass windows, casting dappled hues across the dark mahogany shelves that lined the walls
Duchess Selene—calm, poised, yet visibly softer in the privacy of this space turned toward her niece.
Her deep green eyes narrowed gently.
"Tell me now," she said, her voice low, "what exactly happened?"
The composed mask Lina had worn since entering the estate cracked.
Her lips trembled.
She opened her mouth—then collapsed into her aunt's arms, sobbing, fragile and broken.
Selene held her tightly, arms firm yet comforting.
She didn't ask again. She simply waited.
Between choked breaths, Lina spoke.
About the deception. The betrayal.
