Chapter 24 : Tea and Tension
618 Words
The afternoon sun bathes Evernight Manor’s garden in golden light, making the carefully arranged roses and crystal teacups gleam like something out of a painting. The noble guests sit at round tables draped in fine silk, sipping their tea with poised elegance, their conversations laced with false pleasantries.
Devorah doesn’t sit. She stands at a slight distance, arms crossed, observing everything without much interest. The structured elegance of her guard-like attire makes her stand out even more among the gowns and jewels. The deep, flowing cape draped over her shoulders shifts slightly in the breeze, adding to her already commanding presence.
Sean, standing beside her, leans in slightly. “This is unbearable.” His voice is low, meant just for her.
Devorah huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re the Crown Prince. This is your life.”
Sean makes a face, barely noticeable, but Devorah catches it. She smirks. He gives her a pointed look, then says something else—something too quiet for anyone else to hear.
And Olivia sees it.
From across the garden, her sharp green eyes narrow.
Sean—her Sean—talking to an ordinary female guard like they were equals? No, worse—like they were familiar.
Her grip on her teacup tightens as she watches Devorah murmur something back, and Sean smiles. Not just any smile. That small, knowing kind, like they were sharing an inside joke.
Olivia clenches her jaw.
When Sean excuses himself to speak with an elder noble, leaving Devorah alone, Olivia sees her chance.
She rises gracefully, smoothing out her dress, and approaches.
“Devorah, was it?” Her tone is light, feigning politeness, but there’s an unmistakable edge beneath it.
Devorah turns, her gaze cool and unreadable.
Olivia gives her a once-over. The sharp lines of her uniform. The way she stood so casually yet with unmistakable confidence. And that cape. The damn thing made her look like she belonged here.
Olivia tilts her head. “I must say, you have such a... unique presence. Not quite noble, not quite servant. Something in between.”
Devorah doesn’t react. She simply stares.
That alone is enough to make Olivia’s smile falter for a split second. But she recovers quickly.
“You certainly seem... comfortable speaking with His Highness,” Olivia continues, a pointed sweetness in her voice. “One might even mistake your role for something... more personal.”
Silence.
Devorah doesn’t so much as blink.
The lack of reaction is infuriating. Olivia crosses her arms, her voice lowering so no one else can hear.
“I wonder,” she muses, eyes gleaming with thinly veiled malice, “if you truly understand your place. Sean is kind, you see. It’s in his nature to treat everyone with a certain level of courtesy. But don’t confuse courtesy for something deeper.”
Still, nothing.
Olivia leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “At the end of the day, you’re just a guard. Replaceable. Temporary.”
Devorah shifts slightly. For a moment, Olivia thinks she’s finally going to say something. A sharp retort, a biting remark—something.
Instead, Devorah exhales softly, then turns on her heel and walks away.
Just like that.
Like Olivia wasn’t even worth a response.
Her cape flows behind her, moving with effortless grace, and Olivia is left standing there, fists clenched, seething.
Sean, returning just in time to witness the tail end of the encounter, flicks his gaze between Olivia and Devorah. He raises an eyebrow.
“Something wrong, Olivia?” His tone is polite, but there’s a knowing sharpness beneath it.
Olivia forces a tight smile. “Not at all, Your Highness.”
But inside, her irritation burns hotter than ever
- Writer
