Sexton's dining hall, which was usually alive with chatter, had fallen into whispers behind the students hands. Their eyes were trained on the Crown Prince of the kingdom standing not among Elites but beside the Groundlings' table.
Ruelle's head felt jammed under every pair of eyes pressing on her and questioning her audacity. She had hoped for the prince to leave, but he continued to stand there and she could hear the faint sound of her heart, painfully alive.
"You know, I just realised," Prince Edward began, while everyone in the room hung on every word that left his lips. "I've never had someone work oil on me with such patience. We must do it again sometime. Perhaps regularly!" he looked utterly unaware of the storm he was unleashing.
"I think there are better people suited for it, Your Highness," Ruelle tried to put an end to their conversation.
