When Alina walked to the great hall, the next morning, everything looked normal but something felt off.
A maid who used to nod and smile every day avoided her gaze as if she was uncomfortable.
Even the great hall's atmosphere was different. Conversations didn't stop when she entered. Instead, voices lowered and heads tilted slightly.
They had been talking about her.
She sat in her usual seat and picked up and apple. Two seats away, Lady Pemberton was speaking with Lady Hargrove. They kept glancing at Alina and Dorian.
When Lady Pemberton caught Alina looking at them, she mouthed a word Alina couldn't hear from this distance but could lip-read it.
Pregnant.
The apple slipped down from her hand.
"Something is wrong," Marguerite whispered. "The servants have been talking since this morning."
"About what?"
Marguerite hesitated.
"They're saying… you're sleeping with Prince Dorian. They're saying you've been meeting him privately at night in his room and…"
