The sting of Marissa's final, whispered words left Ashlyn frozen, the triumphant joy of the moment turned to tasteless ash in her mouth. She watched her sister walk away and a cold, familiar resentment began to churn in her gut.
Marissa returned to her seat beside Ryan, the picture of serene composure. She took up her fan, fluttering it with a slow, languid rhythm as if nothing had happened. When everyone was once again seated in the drawing room, a tense and awkward silence having fallen over the family, Marissa spoke.
"Father," she began, her voice calm and clear, addressing Lord Malone directly. "His Grace, the Grand Duke, had official business today which he could not neglect. Though he was unable to accompany me home personally, he did send along a few small homecoming gifts to show his respect."
She turned her head slightly. "Lily."
