By the day of the party I was completely ready—gown perfect, makeup flawless, white gloves crisp against my skin, the necklace resting cool and elegant at my throat. I sat on the sofa in the main hall beside Tamsin, feeling every inch the princess I'd dreamed of becoming. Truthfully, Mother Elowen and I had taken far too long getting ready; everyone else had long since moved on to other tasks, leaving us alone in the quiet grandeur of the hall.
"What is taking Mother Elowen so long?" I huffed, letting out a frustrated little hum. "She's taking forever. We've already delayed our departure."
"She must have come up with something truly great if she's taking this long," Tamsin offered gently, trying to lift my mood.
"I think so," I muttered, though boredom had already settled in deep.
The corset was tight—deliciously so—but I couldn't afford to tire myself out when the day had barely begun. Better to rest. I leaned sideways and rested my head in Tamsin's lap, closing my eyes for a moment. She let out a small, fond giggle, her smile audible even without looking.
"Already tired, I see~"
"No," I murmured. "I'm just resting."
I shifted to lie down more comfortably, cheek pressed against the soft fabric of her skirt, body relaxing into the sofa's cushions. Minutes stretched. Mother Elowen still hadn't appeared. If she kept us waiting much longer, I might actually drift off to sleep.
Just as slumber began to tug my eyelids downward, footsteps echoed through the hall—clear, deliberate, approaching. My eyes snapped open. I sat up quickly, heart giving a small, excited jump as I straightened my posture and smoothed the gown across my lap.
I thought the footsteps belonged to Mother Elowen, but then Uncle Rowan walked in, and my mood soured instantly. He smiled at me—his version of warmth—and came to sit on the small sofa opposite mine. Tamsin had already risen from her place beside me the moment she saw him, retreating to stand behind the sofa like a proper servant. I hated that she had to do it, especially in front of him. She was a servant, yes, but she didn't owe Uncle Rowan any special deference; he didn't deserve it.
"Aren't you looking like a beautiful young lady," he said, his tone forced into something cheerful as he settled in, the cushions sighing under his weight like he was making an effort.
"Is your mother still not ready?"
He pulled a herbal smoke from his pocket and lit it in one smooth, practiced motion, the flame flickering briefly before he drew in a long pull.
"Yes," I replied casually, crossing my legs and resting my chin lazily in my hand. "Do you have any issues?"
He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, watching it curl toward the ceiling.
"No."
I drifted my gaze over him. At first I assumed he hadn't bothered with party attire—the suit looked ordinary, almost careless—but on second glance, I realized this was it: a plain, everyday ensemble. Nothing special. Nothing festive.
"So are you going to get ready," I asked, tone light but edged, "or is this your fit?"
Uncle Rowan shifted his eyes toward me, but it took him a sluggish moment to process my question. The smoke had clearly dulled whatever passed for his attention span; not that he had much to begin with.
"Huh… This?" He glanced down at his plain clothes as though noticing them for the first time. "Actually, I'm not going to the party. I was planning to, but I think I should get a break from parties… and work."
He drew another long pull from the herbal smoke, holding it deep in his lungs before leaning back into the sofa cushions with exaggerated relaxation. When he exhaled, the cloud drifted upward in lazy spirals. A slow, satisfied smile curled across his lips.
"A nice, relaxing break."
His gaze slid from me to Tamsin, lingering just long enough to make the air feel thicker. The words were heavy, coated in something oily and unspoken—something Tamsin could never fully grasp. But I understood perfectly. That bastard was already picturing us. In bed. His idea of "relaxing" involved another woman, another conquest, another body to use and discard. We weren't even adults yet, and the thought alone made bile rise in my throat.
How disgusting.
I ground my teeth behind closed lips, forcing the rage down before it could spill out. My face stayed calm, neutral—practiced. I couldn't let events from my previous life repeat. No. No. No. Just don't think about it, Lucia. Stay focused.
"By the way, Tamsin," he continued, voice deepening with the smoke, slow and deliberate. "Are you going to the party… to serve Lucia?"
The question hung there, innocent on the surface, filthy underneath. How dare he even think it? This creepy, perverted old fool gave me a headache every single time he opened his mouth.
The question caught Tamsin completely off guard. She opened her mouth to say "no," but before the word could escape, I shot up from the sofa and answered for her.
"Yes!!"
Both of them turned to me. For a heartbeat I froze under their stares—Uncle Rowan's narrowed eyes sharp with suspicion, Tamsin's wide with bewilderment. Then I pivoted smoothly toward her, voice bright and breezy.
"That reminds me—you need to get ready as well."
Uncle Rowan's gaze narrowed further, drilling into us. Had he seen through the lie? Even if he had, it didn't matter. He couldn't do anything to me—not openly, not yet. Tamsin stayed mercifully silent, confusion keeping her mouth shut. Good. The less she said, the better.
"Mother Elowen will take even longer," I continued, already moving around the sofa. "Guess we can get you ready."
I stepped closer to Tamsin as Uncle Rowan watched every motion, his herbal smoke forgotten between his fingers—curling wastefully into the air. I reached for her hand, pasting on a bright, fake smile that didn't reach my eyes.
"Come on. Let me show you some of my old clothes."
I pulled her gently but firmly, steering us toward the stairs. Tamsin followed, confusion written all over her face. The original plan had included the whole family—servants handling any heavy lifting if needed—but Tamsin had never been part of it. I hadn't worried about her before because Uncle Rowan was supposed to be at the party, away from the mansion.
But now that he wasn't going anymore…
I couldn't leave her here alone. Not with him. Even if he hadn't planned anything tonight, my actions wouldn't change. I wouldn't give him the chance.