After talking to her aunt, Rubiella headed back to her room.
Her steps sounded measured, as always, and her expression remained serene and restrained. It seemed that nothing from their recent conversation was reflected on her face — neither excitement nor joy. The future duchess's face became a cold mask once again.
But as soon as the girl opened the door to her room, a shadow of irritation flashed across her impassive face.
She stopped, frowning.
"What are you doing here?" she said coldly, in an almost icy tone.
Nura, standing by the dresser, flinched as if she had heard thunder in a clear sky.
Her slender hands, holding a bundle of laundry, trembled, and the fabric almost slipped from her fingers.
"I... I'm sorry, milady, I..." she began hastily, turning around in confusion.
The girl looked as if she had just been caught doing something forbidden. Her red hair, tied into two messy pigtails, had come loose, and her gray-green eyes were noticeably dimmed with fear.
