Elena glanced down at her hand, the callouses and faint scars a map of her past she couldn’t even remember. Compared to her arrival, they were softened, the wounds healing. Yet, beside Hazel’s flawless skin, she felt oddly inadequate.
“A name without a history,” Hazel mused, taking a step closer. “Who are you, truly?”
Elena’s silence drew Hazel in. Resting her chin on a palm, Hazel leaned close, scrutinizing Elena’s face. A sliver of apprehension snaked through Elena as Hazel grasped a lock of her hair, yanking it up.
A crimson streak marred Hazel’s pale wrist where she held the hair. Water trickled down her arm. “Red hair and gray eyes,” Hazel murmured, tilting her head, a flicker of intrigue in her gaze. “A rare combination.”
Hazel’s thumb stroked the hair, her lips pursed. Elena met her gaze unflinchingly, a curious mix of defiance and disdain flashing in her eyes.
With a sudden jerk, Hazel yanked the hair closer, eliciting a sharp cry from Elena. Pain flared on her scalp. When she squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, Hazel’s face was impossibly close.
“Why?” Elena gasped, reaching up to yank at Hazel’s hand.
Hazel’s grip tightened. “Speak.”
“What do you want?” Elena countered, voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.
“How did you earn His Grace’s favor?” Hazel pressed, her voice laced with suspicion. “Did you seduce him?”
“Don’t speak so recklessly.” Fury surged through Elena. Hazel’s words were a blatant insult, not just to her, but to Kennard. She could handle rudeness, but accusations aimed at him were intolerable.
“Maybe not.” A cruel smirk twisted Hazel’s lips. “His tastes wouldn’t stoop to such an…unsightly body. But then…”
Hazel’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of hair near Elena’s forehead. A strangled cry tore from Elena’s throat as pain lanced through her scalp. She clawed at Hazel’s hand, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
“Why you?” Hazel hissed, her voice laced with venomous fury. “Why does he choose a nobody like you while his fiance is cast aside?”
Elena gritted her teeth, forcing out, “I don’t know.”
“If you don’t,” Hazel snarled, shoving Elena with surprising strength, “who does?”
The force sent Elena sprawling backward. Her hand, slick with moisture, found no purchase on the cold marble floor. She tumbled sideways, the impact stealing the breath from her lungs. Pain radiated from her side and arms, yet she lay there, momentarily stunned.
Hazel let out a guttural growl, her knuckles white as she gripped the bathtub’s edge. “It’s unreasonable that I should suffer humiliation from someone like you. How could this even happen?”
A slow, controlled anger burned in Elena’s eyes. Ignoring the throbbing ache, she pushed herself up, using the cool floor as a guide. When she finally faced Hazel, the other woman was a predator poised to strike.
A tremor ran through Elena as she saw the fiery defiance in Hazel’s tear-filled eyes. It wasn’t pity, nor sympathy. It was raw anger.
“What difference does it make?” Elena countered, forcing her gaze to meet Hazel’s.
Hazel blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”
“Why His Grace favors me,” Elena pressed, her voice growing colder with each word. “You asked. Yes, I care for him deeply, but…”
With each sentence, a chilling indifference settled over Elena. As if possessed, a steely calm replaced her earlier turmoil. “Like you said, Miss Hazel, I’m nothing but a commoner. What place do I have in such a position?”
Taking a shaky breath, Elena emphasized “commoner” as if the word itself held the answer. “Besides, it’s you, Miss Hazel, who will be his bride.”
Elena rose slowly, the waterlogged dress clinging to her like a lead weight, threatening to pull her back down. “I understand your displeasure. I don’t belong by His Grace’s side either. So wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if you removed me from the castle as soon as possible?”
With a formal bow and clasped hands, Elena pleaded, “Please.”
Hazel’s voice, laced with anger and tears, crackled. “Who are you to order me?”
Elena swallowed, a silent scream trapped in her throat.
I want to cry too.
