Chapter 6
Seraphina's Warning
The Countess confronts Elara, coldly advising her to stay away from Armand, while Elara senses a deadly rivalry beneath the polished veneer.
The morning after the ball, I woke with the taste of champagne still on my tongue and the memory of Armand’s hand at my waist burning against my skin. But it was not his face that haunted me as I dressed in the dim light of my garret room—it was Seraphina’s. Her gaze had followed me through every waltz, a thread of cold fire that never wavered. I had felt it even when my back was turned, a pressure against my spine, a whisper of warning that no music could drown.
I tried to shake the feeling as I pinned my hair and adjusted the simple muslin gown I had brought from home. The de Valois’ mansion was still quiet, the household not yet stirring from the long night of revelry. I had been given a small room on the third floor, a chamber meant for guests who were neither family nor servants—a liminal space, I now realized, that mirrored my own uncertain place in their world.
A soft knock came at my door before I could decide whether to venture downstairs. I opened it to find a maid I did not recognize, her face pale and expressionless. “Madame la Comtesse requests your presence in the garden,” she said, and then she was gone, her footsteps fading like echoes in a empty hall.
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