A few regarded her with pity, most of which were maids… Whereas many looked at her with pure disdain.
At least that was the way her brain translated the glares that followed her as she marched through the castle behind Zarah.
Nothing of the whispers they breathed among each other reached the young woman for the heart that drummed her ears, nearly rendering Arabella deaf to her surroundings.
It continued to rise up the pipes and threatened to beat in her very throat eventually.
The smaller the distance between the prince and herself grew, the more that feeling persisted.
"You will only speak when spoken to," said Zarah in a stern and clear-cut tone without turning around, "You will not raise your eyes from the ground before the prince and his vassals unless told otherwise, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," Arabella murmured.
"Yes what?" the older woman stopped in her tracks.
"Yes, madame," as instructed, she did not look beyond the hem of that hag's skirt.
