Inside the palace, the grandeur softened into a hush. The vaulted ceilings, once echoing with chatter and ceremony, now loomed in solemn stillness. Their footsteps tapped lightly across polished marble, fading quickly into the quiet around them.
Jenna, still catching her breath from the encounter outside, stole a glance at Kourtney.
"You were… really cold back there," she murmured.
Kourtney didn't turn. "Was I?"
Jenna hesitated. "Not saying it wasn't deserved. Just… wow."
Kourtney exhaled—not quite a sigh. Not amused, not irritated. Simply measured. Before she could respond, a sharp buzz interrupted the stillness—the discreet vibration of her phone from inside her bag.
She slid it out, checked the screen.
And stilled.
Her eyes flicked across the message—expression unreadable, but not unaffected.
Jenna noticed immediately. "What is it?" she asked gently.
Kourtney didn't answer right away. Instead, she turned to her with a composed but distant tone. "Can you deliver the parcel yourself?"
Jenna's brow creased. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," Kourtney replied, though her voice carried a faint distraction. "I just need to step outside. Fifteen—twenty minutes at most. You deliver the parcel… and meet me at the coffee shop across the street."
Jenna nodded slowly. Still nervous, but willing. "Okay. I'll be there."
"The room's just across the next corridor," Kourtney added, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head. "Last door on the right."
"Got it."
No further questions were asked. Jenna could sense this wasn't the moment for them.
Kourtney reached out and gently brushed her hand across Jenna's arm—wordless reassurance.
Then, in the next hallway, they parted.
Kourtney turned away, stepping briskly toward the exit, already raising her phone and tapping the screen—dialing. Her figure, still wrapped in that tailored coat, faded into the gilded shadows of the palace's east wing.
And Jenna stood alone in the quiet corridor, the parcel now feeling just a little heavier in her hands.