Cerdery eyed her from the crown of her head down to the tips of her shoes, dressed in red as always, as though the color had long since seeped into her skin and decided to stay there forever. Her gaze was sharp, invasive, meant to weigh and measure.
Evangeline felt it, felt herself being picked apart, but she refused to shrink beneath it. She did not smooth her gown, did not fidget or avert her eyes. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly and returned the look with a soft, sincere smile. Not mocking like Cerdery's, nor was it fearful, just full of serenity.
She would never judge a person by their clothing alone, but Cerdery clearly took offense at being examined in return.
"Leave," Cerdery demanded.
Only then did Evangeline realize the command wasn't meant for her. It was directed at Ena.
Evangeline turned, catching the maid's hesitation, and smiled reassuringly. "It's alright. You can leave us."
