Once the engagement was finalized, preparations for Werner and Evelyn's wedding kicked into overdrive—as if the entire palace had slammed its foot on the accelerator.
Grace, ever the strategist, presented King Winfred with an auspicious date for the marriage, and the court erupted into a frenzy of activity. Meanwhile, the Campbell household, which had long treated Evelyn as little more than a ghost, suddenly remembered her existence.
Herbert gathered the servants and declared—with uncharacteristic emphasis—that Evelyn's needs were now top priority.
Jewelers, tailors, and perfumers flooded her chambers with glittering tributes: sapphire hairpins, silk gowns embroidered with silver vines, bottles of rose oil from the southern provinces. Evelyn and Ruth spent dizzy afternoons marveling at the treasures, giddy with the novelty of being seen.
But it was clear that not everyone shared their joy.
Alice, the family's golden child, seethed as her sister—that forgotten nobody—was suddenly showered with the luxuries she deserved. The final straw came when a gown Alice had coveted for months was delivered to Evelyn's room instead.
She stormed into Cassie's chambers, cheeks streaked with furious tears. "Why did you let her marry the prince? Now the whole household acts like she's the treasure!"
Cassie pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, her soothing words belying the venom in her eyes. "Darling, Evelyn is just a stepping stone for your father's ambitions. A tool."
"A tool who gets my dresses? My attention?" Alice spat.
Cassie kissed her forehead, her voice a honeyed whisper. "I'll find you a husband ten times more powerful—one who'll adore you. As for Evelyn…" Her grip tightened. "Let her enjoy this while it lasts. Soon, she'll learn what it means to be trapped in a marriage where her husband's heart belongs to another. Where every day is a fresh humiliation. Just. Like. Her. Mother."
The last sentence slithered out between clenched teeth.
Alice's tears froze mid-sob.
Her mother's embrace was warm, her voice sweet as always—but for the first time in her life, Alice saw something else flickering behind Cassie's loving gaze. Something dark and coiled, like a serpent sunning itself on a rock.
"M-Mother…?" Alice's breath hitched. The resentment in Cassie's eyes was so sharp it felt physical—a blade pressed against her throat.
Cassie blinked, and the shadow vanished. She cupped Alice's face, thumbs brushing away tear tracks with practiced tenderness. "My precious girl." She murmured, "Why so frightened? Mummy's only thinking of your future."
Alice didn't reply. The room suddenly felt colder.
And somewhere down the hall, Evelyn—oblivious—ran her fingers over the gown's silk sleeves, glowing with the first warmth of belonging.