After breakfast, Rosemarie and her assistants had finally eaten. Lucretius and I made our way to her room, where they rested the ruined wedding gown, escorted by Horace to request Rosemarie's presence for some serious conversation about the wedding dress. I knew that there was something in her gaze back in the dining hall as if she wanted to tell us something. And it seemed Lucretius noticed it, too, which was why he arranged a private meeting with just the three of us.
When we entered, Rosemarie immediately dismissed her assistants with a small gesture. Once the door shut behind them, she turned toward us, her expression soft yet steady.
"Your Graces," she began, bowing slightly. "I really wanted to speak with you in private."
Lucretius and I exchanged glances. Looks like both of us we
