Chapter 237: The Queen's Unwanted Arrival
Duke Valenridge crossed the chamber in three swift strides and laid Lyria upon the bed with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the urgency of his movements.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven, her skin pale beneath the careful application of cosmetics that had begun to smudge against the dark fabric of his coat.
He straightened and looked around.
The room was bare. There were no ornaments upon the walls, no lavish draperies at the windows, no gilded furniture or plush carpets such as one might expect in the chambers of a princess. A simple bed. A plain wardrobe. A small table. A single chair. That was all.
He said nothing.
But something in his expression shifted—a tightening of his jaw, a flicker of something cold in his pale green eyes. He turned away from the room and faced the maids.
"Move," he said. "Now. Stop behaving as though you do not work for her."
Sally looked at the floor while Theresa hesitated.
