Faith's POV
I woke up the next morning in a weirdly good mood. Bored, but smiling. Like I'd accidentally swallowed happiness in my sleep and now had to pretend it was normal.
It wasn't.
I wasn't that kind of person. I didn't just wake up smiling.
But last night's dinner? That was… something.
Felix had actually been bearable. No threats, no weird power plays, just sarcasm, a ridiculous amount of candles, and him actually laughing at something I said. I didn't know what to make of it. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe it was dinner.
Either way, it had me smiling like a dumb idiot this morning, which I hated.
I grabbed the softest purple dress I owned, threw my hair into a messy bun, and slid into fluffy slippers that made a satisfying shuff-shuff sound as I walked. No plans. No schemes. Just coffee, maybe a croissant, and—
Voices.
Maid voices.
Whispers, actually.
I slowed down near the hallway by the stairs, leaning just close enough to hear.
"Poor girl's still breathing."
Huh?
