"What a great actress," The Crown Prince removed his mask, the cold facade cracking, a sneer pulling his lips, "You had me fooled for years, didn't you? If it wasn't for that incident, would I have been able to see past your charade?"
"I was just fulfilling my duty as your fiance, Your Highness," Celine said, "I've always done everything to keep your reputation, and the Crown Prince's prestige, safe. Even when I was framed, I didn't dare to speak, and let others slander me. Wasn't I a loyal partner, Your Highness?"
He became silent again, and only after a long while, did he finally respond, "All I remember is an annoying, self-entitled noble lady, who did more harm than good."
Celine bowed her head, smiling bitterly. "Then I apologize for wasting your time, Your Highness," she replied, "Please allow me to retire. I fear that the evening's excitement has tired me out."
The anger in his eyes faded, replaced with a diplomatic expression, "It's late. I will have you escorted, and make sure that you reach your estate safely. It would be a pity, if the King's guest got harmed during the banquet, wouldn't it?"
He commanded a few of his guards, and instructed them to keep her "safe" and to ensure that no harm befell her. It was a polite way of making sure she didn't step out of line. "Have a safe trip, Lady Rochefort."
"Thank you for your kind concern, Your Highness." Celine's fingers twitched, holding back from grabbing a book and smashing it into his face, break his nose, and give him two black eyes. The image made her smile at him.
Only when the Crown Prince left, did Celine's shoulders sag, the weight on her chest feeling heavier than before. She was still on the ground, and none of the guards made a move, and no one offered a helping hand.
She gave them a once over, and scoffed, wondering which one was the snitch who always had an ear out, the one who always reported her actions to the Crown Prince, the spy who was a thorn in her side - a shadow guard, hidden in plain sight.
Their job was to blend in, to appear normal, to not attract attention, and it was precisely because of this, that finding them was impossible.
The only way to get rid of them, was to make sure that their ears and eyes were always occupied with false reports, unreliable information, and misdirections, so much so that they'd have no time, or energy, to dig deeper and look further.
Now that she graduated from the academy, she would need to purge the Rocheforts' estate from the rats, and then plant her own eyes and ears.
"You there," Celine pointed at one of the guards. The stiff crinoline trapped her legs, and the heavy layers of fabric weighed her down, making it clear it would take forever to stand on her own, "Help me up."
The guard looked taken aback. He glanced at the other guard, afraid, hesitant. "Lady Rochefort," he bowed, his voice wavering, "It's not a proper thing for me to do. I'm not in the position to─"
"Do you know what your job is?"
"Of course," the guard straightened his posture, his voice firmer, "To assure your safety, and escort you home. To make sure no harm comes to you."
"And do you think by leaving me here, on the floor, you are accomplishing your task?"
He swallowed thickly, "I-I didn't mean any disrespect, Lady Rochefort. Please forgive me." He looked around, searching for support, but none of his fellow soldiers came to his aid. Instead, they all avoided eye contact, pretending as if they didn't hear anything.
"Just hand me over your sword, and step away," Celine extended her arm, reaching out, her voice laced with impatience.
The guard quickly handed over his weapon, but before stepping back, he warned, "Please be careful with that, lady Rochefort."
Celine grabbed the sword, and used it as a cane, to stand up, and balance herself. She held it for a moment, her grip steady, before returning it. With a glance at her reflection in the window, she took a moment to adjust her hair.
Her hand stopped, when she noticed the bruise around her neck, already beginning to form, the anger from before returning, boiling inside of her.
She moved toward the exit, her fingers touching the books' spines as she walked, dropping them off the shelf, one by one, "No, too thin, no, too light, no, no, no, no..."
Drop, drop, drop. The books fell one after another, until a thick book reached her hands.
"Here you are," she took it out and flung it around, testing the weight, "Perfect."