Chapter 249: The Head Maid
Chapter 248: The Head Maid
The Queen regarded Duke Aurelgrave for several moments.
At length, the Queen lifted her teacup.
"And what would Your Grace suggest?" she asked.
Duke Aurelgrave cleared his throat lightly.
"I believe," he said, "that it would be in the royal family’s best interest to ensure that the Princess recovers."
The Queen said nothing.
Duke Aurelgrave continued calmly.
"Not merely that she recovers, but that she does so within the expected timeframe."
Princess Jacinta rolled her eyes at that, but Duke Aurelgrave ignored her. She was of less importance at the moment, after all.
"If Her Highness improves as the physician predicts, then the matter may be put to rest with minimal discussion. Questions will cease before they truly begin."
He paused before adding carefully,
"Afterward, Your Majesty may proceed as she sees fit."
The Queen tilted her head slightly.
A small smile appeared upon her lips.
"Sometimes," she said, "I find myself wondering whether Your Grace is truly with us at all."
Jacinta looked at him sharply.
The Queen continued.
"And then you say something that causes me to reconsider."
Duke Aurelgrave smiled politely.
The expression was warm enough to appear genuine. Only he knew how much effort it took to maintain it.
He rose from his seat and bowed his head.
"Family comes first, after all, Your Majesty."
The Queen watched him as if searching for any sign he was playing a game with her.
Duke Aurelgrave’s smile remained unchanged.
"You need not doubt me," he said. "I am with you through and through."
The Queen studied him for another moment before giving a satisfied nod.
"Very well."
Then her attention shifted back to Kathryn.
The physician immediately straightened.
"Did you hear what His Grace said?" the Queen asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
The Queen waved a dismissive hand.
"Then see that the Princess recovers," she said. "And that she recovers well."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the porcelain cup.
"It would hardly reflect favourably upon the royal family if a Princess were to disgrace us before the entire kingdom while every eye is watching, would it?"
Kathryn lowered her head.
"No, Your Majesty."
The Queen made a flicking motion with her wrist.
"Now that that has been settled, get out of my sight."
Kathryn bowed, then quickly turned and left.
The door closed softly behind her.
For several moments afterward, nobody spoke.
The Queen lifted her tea and took a measured sip.
Duke Aurelgrave had returned to his seat, and Jacinta looked annoyed, but she said nothing.
Then, quite suddenly, the Queen sighed, her patience reaching its limit.
"Why," she asked loudly, "has the Head Maid still not arrived?"
The sharpness in her voice caused several servants near the walls to flinch.
Duke Aurelgrave glanced toward her with a frown on his face.
"What do you require the Head Maid for, Your Majesty?"
The Queen set her teacup down.
"The answer should be obvious."
Her tone was clipped.
"The maids assigned to the Princess have failed in their duties."
"They neglected their responsibilities, allowed the Princess’s condition to worsen, and managed to expose the matter to individuals who should never have become involved."
Her fingers tightened around the armrest. Duke Aurelgrave knew that the last part was what annoyed her more.
"If they remain in her service, it will be an embarrassment to the Crown."
Duke Aurelgrave inclined his head.
"Indeed."
The Queen continued.
"The royal family cannot be seen to tolerate incompetence."
She looked toward the door.
"The maids must be replaced."
Duke Aurelgrave nodded slowly.
He did not speak. He did not argue. He simply sat there, his expression composed, his hands resting loosely on the arms of his chair.
The Queen had not dismissed him.
That meant he could stay. That meant he could observe. That meant he could listen.
And he would. Lyria needed his help now more than ever, and he was not going to let her down.
The Queen turned away from him, her gaze fixed on the door.
Duke Aurelgrave allowed his mind to drift, just for a moment.
When he had heard that Lyria had collapsed, he had felt as though someone had drenched him with cold water. The news had struck him like a physical blow, stealing his breath, freezing his blood. His first thought had been to find her, to see her, to ensure that she was not—
He stopped the thought before it could finish.
He could not show that he was affected. He could not show that he cared. Jacinta was watching. The Queen was watching. They would see any sign of weakness, any flicker of emotion, and they would use it against him. Against her.
So he had pretended.
He had pretended not to care. He had pretended that the news meant nothing to him. He had pretended that Lyria was no more than a distant acquaintance, a face in the crowd, a name on a list.
Even while his heart had been racing.
His hands had been trembling.
But no one knew, and certainly not the royal family.
The door opened after a while, and a woman stepped inside.
She was older—perhaps fifty, perhaps more. Her hair was grey, streaked with white, pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress was black, unadorned save for a simple white collar at the throat. The fabric was worn but clean, and it rustled softly as she walked.
Her face was lined with years, her skin pale. Her eyes were brown in colour, but they looked knowing, though they revealed nothing.
She bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty," she said.
Her voice was low and even, neither deferential nor defiant.
The Queen waved her hand.
"You took your time," she said.
The Head Maid bowed deeper.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," she said. "There were matters that required my attention. I apologise for wasting your time."
The Queen stared at her.
Her gaze moved over the woman’s face, her dress, her hands, her posture.
"What is your name?" the Queen asked. "I do not recall you."
