Arabella made a quick decision not to let their words break her. She refused, utterly refused, to give them that satisfaction. Lifting her chin high, she straightened her shoulders and walked forward with quiet dignity, her maid trailing closely behind her.
Each step she took was deliberate, controlled, as though she were walking into battle rather than into a court filled with wolves waiting to tear her apart.
Lily, who had been watching from behind, couldn't help but smile to herself.
She watched the exact moment Arabella's expression shifted, from wounded silence to something sharper, something bold.
Isn't she a tough one, Lily thought quietly.
Perhaps there was more to the girl than everyone assumed. Perhaps, just perhaps, the king had finally met someone who wouldn't crumble beneath his weight.
Maybe the king has met his match after all, she mused inwardly.
Without saying another word, Lily followed behind her, her expression returning to its usual calm mask.
