Alesha stood stiff, her chest rising and falling as she fought to keep her fury in check. The voices around her faded into a dull hum.
All she could focus on was Janine, standing tall and composed, radiating a quiet confidence that made her blood boil.
Her fists clenched tighte and her nails bite into her skin, the sharp pain was barely enough to distract her from the burning rage.
For a split second, she imagined storming over, tearing Janine down, and wiping that smug look off her face.
But Janine didn’t even glance her way. She remained calm, turning to the noblewomen with a warm, poised smile.
Her voice was steady, polished, and kind. She looked every bit the star Alesha had always wanted to be, and it was like a knife twisting in Alesha’s chest.
“Ladies,” Janine began, her voice
