Gulp.
Olivia swallowed hard, the back of her throat feeling painfully dry.
Your Grace's eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking, waiting for an explanation about the subtle trembling in Olivia's foolish hands.
She immediately bowed her head as low as possible, racking her brain to find the most logical excuse so their secret wouldn't be exposed over this terrifying dining table.
"I beg for your forgiveness, Your Grace. Your Grace's aura this morning is so commanding that this servant feels utterly small.
"Furthermore... I am feeling slightly lightheaded from not sleeping last night, trying to fulfill the requests of My Lady Ophilia, who is still traumatized by the incident at the ball."
Olivia spoke calmly. She forced herself to control her shaking hands. Duke Herold, without even looking at Olivia, delivered a reply that made the room even more suffocating for the three of them.
"Olivia, I didn't see you in Ophilia's room at all last night," Your Grace remarked.
