[Lavinia's POV—Imperial Palace, The Tea Party—Continuation]
The silence was deafening.
Not the gentle hush of a peaceful garden, but the sharp, suffocating silence of a noose tightening. Every noble sat frozen in their chair, fans half-raised, lips pressed white. No one dared to breathe too loudly. No one dared to look away from her.
Eleania.
Her once-perfect composure was cracking—splintering like porcelain under too much pressure. Her knuckles blanched around her fan, trembling so violently it seemed it might snap in two. Sweat clung to her temple, betraying the fury she tried so desperately to disguise.
And I—
I only smiled.
"My, my…" My voice slipped into the quiet like velvet laced with poison. "So many accusations. Such a tangled mess of words. And yet, somehow, they all seem to point in the same direction…"
I let my scarlet gaze linger on her, deliberately, mercilessly.
"Toward you, Lady Eleania."
