Beatrice had a lot on her mind lately. Political tensions, impending doom, the usual. But today? Today, she was in a mood.
Her 22nd birthday was coming up. Well, technically, Beatrice Da Ville's birthday was months away, but in her heart? Bea Elisha Park was about to turn 22, and that was something to celebrate.
She spun around her chambers, arms outstretched, belting out, "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling twenty-two!"
Lily, standing in the corner folding linens, blinked. "…My lady?"
Beatrice ignored her, too deep in the moment. She grabbed a hairbrush off her vanity, using it as a makeshift microphone.
"Everything will be alright if—"
The door creaked open.
Beatrice turned, still mid-spin, still clutching her fake microphone, only to make direct eye contact with Francois.
He stood in the doorway, completely still. Silent. Staring.
Beatrice froze. Lily froze.
Francois… blinked.
A very long, very painful silence stretched between them.
