Leaving Talia's chambers with a heart heavy with unspoken truths, Olivia marched toward Amelia's room. She did not knock; the gravity of her news had stripped away the need for pleasantries.
As she swept inside, Amelia rose to greet her, but Olivia's gaze remained cold, fixed on a singular, grim purpose.
"Emelia," Olivia began, her voice cutting through the quiet of the room like a blade. "The Dowager Duchess has passed."
The color drained from Emelia's face. Her eyes widened, shimmering with a sudden, sharp disbelief. She swallowed hard, her voice a mere fracture of its former self. "What? How?"
"It happened today," Olivia replied curtly. "And I am not here for idle talk. Come. We are going."
Emelia blinked, her confusion mounting. "Going? Where?"
"To see her, of course. Where else would I take you at this hour?"
"In the dead of night?" Emelia recoiled, her breath hitching.
"I... I do not wish to go."
Olivia's brows knit together in incredulity. "What?"
