Olivia snatched the gown from his hands, her grip tight and unyielding. "Of course. Do you truly believe a mere piece of fabric has the power to intimidate me? Naturally, I will pay whatever toll is required for our alliance."
Cedric's smile widened with deep satisfaction, and he gestured toward the waiting maids. "Assist her in changing."
The maids moved in synchronization behind her, guiding Olivia into the private dressing room. As their fingers worked to adjust the seams, a wave of profound revulsion washed over her, curdling in her stomach at the mere reality of being in his presence. But she forced herself to endure it; she had to play along. At the very least, she knew Cedric's madness was different from Roland's—he wouldn't physically harm her.
Within minutes, she was ready.
