Heather’s POV
I stood up slowly, the heaviness in my chest anchoring each movement, and made my way to the door. My face was damp, and my throat tight, but I still tried to wipe away the tears before I opened it. My fingers trembled as they touched my cheek. I knew I didn’t look composed but I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.
When I opened the door, it was Lucinda standing there. She looked at me for barely a second before her brows knit together in worry. “Princess Heather,” she said gently. “You have been crying.”
“No,” I answered too quickly. “I am not crying, I just got something on my eyes,” I replied blinking severally.
I hated how unconvincing my voice sounded. Too soft and too broken. My eyes stung again just from the effort of keeping them open, of keeping the tears a
