Lady Clarice stood between the young women, fuming quietly. She had caught them in the middle of a heightened offense.
Thanks to Isolde's sharp thinking, the covers had been thrown over the scrolls before Lady Clarice could set her eyes on them.
Maybe it did not even matter, as she already had her eyes set on one target. One person.
Selene.
Hateful, resentful eyes that did not bother to pretend.
"It's too early for this gathering. It is time for her meal, so why is she not eating?" Lady Clarice demanded.
Selene felt the instant rigidity in Blaize's and Isolde's hands. She didn't blame them. Lady Clarice carried a quiet, formidable energy that typically settled like a chill in the room—uncomfortable, but something to be endured. Today, however, that same energy didn't just chill Selene; it grated against her raw nerves like a blade.
She was tired of this woman's stern and controlling behavior—not to mention her detestable gaze.
