The moment I declared the tea party mine, the atmosphere shifted—subtle, but unmistakable. The noble ladies sat straighter, their smiles suddenly too bright, their hand movements too controlled. Every eye flicked toward me, as if terrified to miss a single shift in my expression.
Lady Clarisse looked like she wanted to melt into her chair permanently.
Good.
I lifted my teacup, swirling the pale amber liquid. "I must say," I began lightly, "the decor is lovely. Clarisse, you've outdone yourself."
She flinched at the compliment like it might explode.
"T-thank you… Your Highness."
Maribel smirked behind her cup.
Lucia sat next to me as stiff as a lamp post.
I set the cup down with a soft tap. "Though I do wonder…" I looked around the table slowly, letting anticipation tighten the air, "…what made everyone suddenly so busy when my tea invitations went out this morning."
[Finally the interrogation has begun]
