Evelyne managed, “Yes,” though her voice cracked in the middle.
Isildeth entered, she was carrying a robe and a glass of water.
“You cried out,” she explained, placing the cup on the windowsill before crossing to her.
Evelyne took the robe. “It was just… a sound outside.”
Isildeth gave a small hum.
Evelyne stood slowly, wrapping the robe tighter and avoiding eye contact. “I need air,” she murmured, avoiding Isildeth’s gaze.
“Would you like me to fetch your tea?”
“No,” Evelyne replied quickly. “No, thank you.”
She crossed to the window, pushing it open with more force than necessary. Cold air rushed in. It smelled of rain and burned herbs.
Isildeth was still watching her.
“My lady,” she said. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” Evelyne cut in, sharper than she meant. “Please prepare my gown.”
A pause. Too long.
And then—soft, but firm: “No.”
Evelyne turned. Slowly. “Excuse me?”
“No,” Isildeth protested, squaring her shoulders like she was bracing for battle. “You are notfine. You haven’t been for months. I’ve watched you bite your tongue so hard it leaves marks. I have done everything I could to give you space. But enough is enough.”
Evelyne blinked. Isildeth had never raised her voice to her.
“You are a princess,” Isildeth continued. “Yes. But you are also human. For the first time since Queen Virelle, you’ve been granted real power. You command a future. One that terrifies them. Yet you walk through this castle like someone waiting to be punished.”
Evelyne opened her mouth, but no words came.
“You’re like a daughter to me,” Isildeth went on, more quietly now. “I shouldn’t say that. I know my place. But it’s true.”
Evelyne looked away. That was usually enough to end things. But not this time.
“You’re hurting yourself,” Isildeth insisted, voice shaking just slightly now. “You are a brilliant woman. But arrogant.”
“That is none of your—”
“It is,” she retorted. “Because I care. And because I’ve watched you treat everyone else with more grace than you grant yourself. You think silence makes you strong, that walls make you safe. But they don’t. They make you lonely, cold, and blind.”
Evelyne’s hands curled at her sides.
“My lady… I wouldn’t say anything if you really felt nothing. But I know you do. You feelit all, but you treat it like a flaw.”
Evelyne inhaled sharply. “I… I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yes,” Isildeth said. “You do.”
That stopped her.
“Everything,” Isildeth continued. “The pressure. What happened last year. And eight years ago. You’re unraveling, but pretending you aren’t. I know you.”
