As Elizabeth made her way back to her chambers, the weight of the evening settled on her shoulders. She had maintained her composure, had established boundaries, and had even managed to find moments of potential connection. Yet exhaustion crept through her veins like cold water, a bone-deep weariness that came from constantly calculating every word, every gesture.
Inside her room, the carefully constructed facade finally crumbled. She sank onto her window seat, drawing her knees to her chest as she gazed out at the moon-washed gardens below. The Silver Lady hung full and bright in the night sky, her celestial presence both a comfort and a reminder of the divine expectations placed upon the Pearson bloodline.
"I did well, didn't I, Mother?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice small
