186: Women of envy

Women of envy

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Emily stood still with a stiff expression, staring at the space where Raylen had been standing just moments ago. She swiftly downed both glasses and then set off in search of the powder room. The skin around her neck was still red, and as soon as she located the powder room, she hurriedly slipped inside. 

"Lily, over here," Janelle called from where she was sitting before a mirror, patting the empty seat next to her. "Forgive me for taking such a long time to return. I wanted to fix my hair."

"It's no problem," Emily murmured. 

"Is everything alright?" Janelle inquired with concern in her voice upon noticing the princess's preoccupied demeanour. 

Emily offered a reassuring smile and replied, "Yes." She then proceeded to open the small drawers beneath the mirror and said, "I am searching for a pin. Ah, found one." 

One of the women in the room overheard their conversation and remarked, "It is quite strange that, being the king's niece, you haven't been provided with a decent gown."

Emily and Janelle both turned to face the woman sitting behind them. The princess asked, 

"Were you talking to me?" 

The woman wore a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and she asked, "You are searching for a pin to fix your sleeve?" Her eyes shifted to look at Emily's hand resting on her shoulder. "It makes one question whether you two are truly related, or if there is something you might be hiding, as though you are secretly living with him?" 

The other three women in the room discreetly observed Emily and Janelle, either through the corners of their eyes or through the reflection of the mirrors in front of which they were seated in the circular room. Their curiosity was piqued, and they were ready to bite into the tantalising gossip dangling before them. 

Emily understood that despite Raylen's status as king, people would still engage in gossip about them behind his back. And seeing the two women she had previously encountered, the ones Raylen openly admitted he took pleasure in, she realised that people would likely assume her to be involved with him in some intimate way. She politely smiled at the woman and said, 

"Who said I was searching for a pin to fix my dress? This gown was meticulously tailored by Mr. Hatt at King Raylen's special request, just for me." She remembered that Mr. Hatt had said that no one had seen it before, as he had been working on it privately without anyone's knowledge.

"Then why have you been clutching one of your shoulders? And, what other purpose does a pin serve?" The woman called her bluff and softly scoffed before breaking into a knowing smile. 

Emily didn't falter in front of the woman. She extended her right hand forward, displaying her ring finger, and said, 

"A wood splinter must have lodged itself in my finger when I touched the woodwork on one of the doors, and it has been bothering me. I wanted to see if I could remove it with the pin." 

The woman appeared momentarily tongue-tied, unable to accuse Emily of lying, and with a dissatisfied harrumph, she exited the powder room. The other three women, who had been observing the exchange, returned their attention to fixing their appearance before eventually departing from the room as well. 

Janelle stared at the closed door and spoke in a hushed tone, saying, "It seems like the women who admire King Raylen are keeping their watchful eyes on you, ready to scrutinise you and ensure that you two are not romantically involved together." 

Emily let out a sigh and admitted, "I didn't expect to be questioned about it this soon. I should talk about this with Grandmother." 

"With the Mother Queen? How are you going to manage that?" Janelle asked, puzzled, as the old woman was back in Versailles. 

"There's a way," Emily replied cryptically. She had been given a limited supply of the potions that allowed her to make contact with her grandmother, and she had to be cautious not to exhaust them prematurely, as replenishing them would be a challenge. She continued, "My sleeves are loose," as she proceeded to unfasten the safety pin. 

"So the woman was right. Let me assist with that pin," Janelle offered, taking it in her hand. She said, "I wonder how long she has been watching you like the others, especially since you were beside the king. Speaking of him, I must say he is a charming man, isn't he? The way he smiles, it just does something to a woman."

"Hypnotises you," Emily said, before finishing her sentence. "Like a snake." 

"Now that I remember, you aren't particularly fond of him. How did you end up agreeing to stay at his castle?" Janelle chucked as she secured Emily's sleeve with the pin. 

"It was Brother Dante's decision." And Emily never went against his word. When another woman entered the powder room, they both stepped out and made their way back to the centre of the gathering where the crowd was concentrated. 

They enjoyed their time together, catching up on things they hadn't been able to discuss since Janelle had moved away from Versailles. A few minutes later, the men who had earlier asked them to dance approached them and escorted them onto the dance floor. 

As time passed, approaching the lunch hour, Emily engaged in conversation with a considerable number of attendees. Men patiently awaited their turn for her attention, and she conversed with each one of them politely. However, as courteous as her words were, her heart was not fully present. Despite being surrounded by the company of a sea of people, she felt the void in her chest expanding. 

"I have a stable with many breeds of horses that have been shipped from other lands…" one of the men was discussing with Emily when Janelle commented, 

"It appears we are about to encounter more familiar faces." 

Emily followed Janelle's gaze towards the entrance of the room, and as she did, she felt her hands go cold and her face drain of colour. There, at the entrance, stood the newlyweds, Layla and Nathaniel. They wore joyful smiles and began to speak to someone who approached them. They looked genuinely happy, while her own heart began to sink. The pain she had concealed surged back with even greater intensity, and she felt a sharp, shooting pain in her chest. 

Why were they here…? Anxiousness surged within her. Her hands began to tremble, and in an effort to steady them, she tightly clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms to keep them from shaking. 

"I—I, excuse me…" Emily stammered, taking a step backwards before hastily leaving the room through the back door. 

Walking as swiftly as she could and as far as her feet could carry her, Emily eventually reached a deserted room. She had no idea where she ended up, but she stepped inside and locked the door behind her. Her breathing was unsteady, and she pressed her forehead against the door, attempting to regain her composure with deep breaths. Overwhelmed, her eyes welled up with tears, and she fought to hold them back. 

Why was she being punished like this? Emily asked herself, frustration and sorrow gnawing at her. She had travelled all the way here to get away from him and forget about having a soulmate. All she wanted right now was to flee. 

Wiping away her tears, Emily unlocked the door and ventured back into the corridor. To make her escape, she would need a carriage, and for that, she needed to find Raylen first. Upon encountering one of the mansion's servants on her way, Emily inquired, 

"Do you happen to know where King Raylen is right now?" 

"He's on the upper floor and we were instructed not to disturb him," the servant replied. 

"Thank you," Emily murmured, before making her way towards the upper floor.

Raylen could spend many more hours here, but she needed to inform him before leaving the mansion. After all, it was his carriage, and he had brought her here. She made her way up the stairs and found a locked room. She blinked her eyes several times, then raised her hand and knocked on the door. 

After a moment, the door was opened by Gloria. The room inside appeared dark, as if the curtains had been drawn. Seeing Emily at the door, the woman began, "King Raylen is busy right now. You should come b—"

"I need to speak with him," Emily responded, the smile on her lips vanishing as she adopted a serious expression. 

Gloria turned miffed and said, "You see—"

The door was abruptly pulled open by Raylen, and Emily couldn't help but notice him licking his bloodied lips. His eyes had taken on a darker intensity, and, like her, his smile was notably absent. It was clear that he wasn't impressed by her interruption. 

Emily informed him in a composed and pleasant voice, "If it's not too much trouble, I would like to leave first and return to the castle now." 

While she didn't reveal the reason for her desire to leave, Raylen was about to dismiss her. However, when he continued to stare at her, he noticed the glistening droplets on her lashes—something she had failed to notice and wipe away before coming here. 

"You can leave," Raylen remarked. A smile appeared on Gloria's lips, and Emily, ready to depart as soon as possible, turned to walk away. However, just as she was about to make her exit, they heard him say, "Not you. Gloria."

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