The grand mirror offered a reflection unlike any Lola had seen before. Gone was the gentle debutante with downcast eyes; in her place stood a woman cloaked in quiet fire. The gown Emmeline had sewn was nothing short of art, a deep garnet silk that shimmered like the last light of dusk, edged with black lace at the collar and sleeves. It whispered of mystery and command, without ever raising its voice.
Her figure, framed with tasteful precision, carried a refined boldness. Her hair was swept up into an intricate coif, soft curls brushing her cheeks like the ghost of a smile. She stepped back, studying herself not out of vanity, but for readiness.
"They won't know what hit them," she murmured.
Beatrix clasped her hands, her eyes shining. "My lady, you look like a storm wrapped in velvet."
Lola's lips curved slightly. "Good. That's precisely what I intend to be."
From the corner, Emmeline gave a proud smile. "I lined the hem in crimson, just as you asked. Like fire hiding beneath the calm."
"Perfect," Lola replied, sliding on her gloves with the elegance of someone preparing for battle. "Let them think I came for tea and gossip. Let them underestimate me."
Beatrix approached with a final touch of rouge to her cheeks. "And if they try to tear you down?"
Lola's eyes met hers in the mirror, steady and unyielding. "Then we'll build something stronger from the ashes."
The palace bells chimed the late morning hour, echoing down the corridor like a call to arms. She turned toward the door with a quiet command in her step.
"Come. Let's begin the day."
Beatrix giggled, barely able to hide her anticipation, while Emmeline followed with the grace of someone who knew something extraordinary was about to unfold.
Elsewhere in the palace, Lady Calantha sat frozen, hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her composure had not faltered, but the tension in her jaw betrayed her fury. That Adriana had dared to enter her sanctuary much less threaten her was an offense she would not easily forgive.
"I never thought you'd dare use that name again," Calantha said coldly, her voice laced with steel. "Or show your face in my chambers."
Adriana strolled lazily across the room, her every movement languid and deliberate. "Desperation, darling, has always been the finest motivator. And I do love a game with high stakes."
"You're playing with fire," Calantha warned. "And you're not the only one with something to lose."
Adriana turned sharply, her smile sharp and sweet. "Ah, but I'm the only one who's not afraid to lose everything."
Calantha narrowed her gaze. "What do you want?"
"Oh, nothing extravagant," Adriana said, examining her nails as if they mattered more than the threat she posed. "A whisper here, a delay there. A touch of chaos, nothing more."
Calantha scoffed. "Why now? I thought you'd retired your little schemes. After Everia, I even wondered if you'd grown a conscience."
Adriana leaned in close, her breath silk over skin, voice like poisoned honey. "Because she's no longer a girl with clever eyes and a pretty mouth. She's growing teeth. And I intend to break them."
Calantha tensed. "And if I refuse to help you?"
Adriana tilted her head, her expression softening with dangerous sweetness. "You won't. You never did know how to resist a good bargain, Cally. Especially one where you come out on top."
"What makes you so sure?" Calantha asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Adriana chuckled. "Because I know you. You've always chased power like perfume. And this, this is your moment."
Silence thickened the room. At last, Calantha exhaled a sharp breath, her decision sealed in the stillness.
"What do you need me to do?"
Adriana's smile bloomed with triumph. "Good girl. I'll brief you later."
She turned, her skirts whispering against the marble floor like a promise of ruin. But before she reached the door, it creaked open.
And there stood Lola, draped in garnet, wreathed in defiance, her eyes a storm waiting to break.
Their gazes met.
Neither woman blinked.