Princess of Calamity (#2 PRINCESS series-part of the GOLDEN UNIVERSE)✔

•T W E N T Y - F I V E•

♪ Shake it off, this pride and glory
You dig up so many stories ♪
{Halsey—Experiment on me}
[EXPLICIT WARNING for the song]

Conspiring courtesans.

Cordelia was allowed out of her room, yet she preferred to remain inside, where no eyes would lie upon her to judge her. It was suffocating, lonely, and stressful; but she'd rather have a modicum of freedom while locked up than guards surveying her while she ate breakfast or strolled in the gardens.

They weren't guards, they were spies. The staff at Read Manor weren't regular staff; they were bugs that buzzed about then relayed all they'd gathered to Lord and Lady Read, no matter how distorted their tales were.

Grotesque proximity?

How had anyone noticed a proximity between Cordelia and Helen? They'd been giving each other the cold shoulder since they'd left the Baroness' manor, and only on a handful of occasions were civil to each other while at Read Manor. Was there some spark between them that only others saw? Was there some odd warmth, sensation, some temperature switch when they were in the same room together?

Or was it when Lady Read had forced them to share a room so she could accommodate the royals? She'd shoved them into a broom-closet space and what had she expected? They hadn't shared the same bed, they'd barely even looked at each other during that time. Had someone overheard their rare conversations? Had someone caught the few times they were near one another?

Perhaps it was the night she spent in Helen's room, post-room separation; but the serving girl had roused Cordelia in time to—

"Oh, but she snitched first, yes? Or after..." Cordelia stomped, barefoot, wishing she could remember the name of the girl, her face, to better punch it in her mind.

No one was trustworthy here. No one.

For days, she refused to leave her room, requesting food and tea and reading materials from her guard. A few times, she was offered a bath, and she accepted, if anything, to plunge her head under water and drown all the horrific thoughts that kept racing in her mind. The thoughts of her and Helen being tried for their sinful lust toward one another. Or those of her being shamed for desiring Thomas, too, and being snatched up by Antoine and screamed at in public for all her mistakes.

On many occasions, she asked about Helen; was she okay? Had she come out of her room? Was she eating? Had she heard anything new from her father? But the serving girls attending her—those bringing her meals and drinks—sealed their lips so tight they nearly turned blue with effort. No one would dare tell her of Helen, who'd she'd been forbidden from seeing, and clearly, forbidden from even hearing about. It was as if her name been erased from everyone's mouth. And briefly, Cordelia wondered if Lord Read had sent her away, back to her father's, despite his decision to shun her.