The D-Day was finally here. The festival had been running for hours, guests moving in and out, music playing softly in the background. But even that couldn't cover the whispers spreading through the hall.
"I heard the black-haired outsider is the one handling the festival."
"They say she's lowborn."
Olessia heard every word, none of them hid their displeasure. Nobles believed the position should have gone to someone like Lady Walda, not an outsider with no name or status. But His Royalty Kaive had dismissed Lady Walda, and chosen her instead, and that alone had stirred more resentment.
"She took Walda's place? Just like that?"
"At this rate, anyone can walk into the palace and get handed authority."
The comments followed her everywhere she walked. It was clear, no matter how fast she moved or how much she tried to stay focused on her task.
Randa stepped beside her, lowering her voice. "You've heard what they're saying, Miss Olessia."
