The air felt heavier after Beatrice left the solar.
Francois' words still lingered in her mind, echoing with an unsettling weight. I expect you to be prepared.
Beatrice exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "Nope. Not thinking about that right now."
She had bigger problems. Like how to navigate the rest of her day without spiraling into anxiety.
The halls of the palace were as pristine and elegant as ever, with servants moving in perfect rhythm. If anyone else knew about the growing tension at court, they weren't showing it. Beatrice, however, had to resist the urge to scream into the nearest embroidered cushion.
She needed a distraction. Preferably one that didn't involve political scheming, assassination plots, or Francois staring at her like she was an unsolvable puzzle.
Fortunately, the universe answered her silent plea.
"Lady Beatrice!"
She turned just in time to see Johanna approaching, her usual gentle expression in place. But something was… off.
