Isadora slammed her bedroom door shut behind her. She paced across the room, the hem of her gown swishing against the floor as she tugged the pins from her hair one by one, letting the strands fall loose around her shoulders.
She could still hear Sephrina Vale's shrill, smug voice echoing. She'd looked down her nose at her in the middle of the boutique, speaking like she was something dragged in from the gutter. And the nerve — bringing up her visits to D'Aragon Hall as if they were some scandalous sin.
"Arrogant, insufferable bitch," Isadora muttered under her breath.
But no matter how sour the encounter had left her, she couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Sephrina's face when she told her — quite publicly — to fuck off.
The shop had gone so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Good.
A sharp knock at the door snapped her out of it.
"Come in," she called.
Nora, her maid, slipped inside, shutting the door carefully behind her. She looked both excited and nervous.
