Scarlett's POV
I kept my head high while walking back to my quarters after getting my dress soiled by Faye's so-called 'accident'. The echo of murmurs from the reception still clung to me like smoke—words carried by too many mouths, improvised to make it worse, and the one who did it—none other than Faye, of course.
My dress was still faintly damp where Faye's "accident" landed, and the chilled silk stuck to my skin in patches. I couldn't help but grit my teeth in irritation. Damn, I desperately wanted to do the same to her, but there were too many watching, and who knew—she would surely take advantage and worsen my reputation.
At least I worsened hers too. Nothing could change the fact that she was the mistress, a homewrecker in fact, who had the nerve to challenge the still original.
