Bab 10: First Trial.

Evelina's heart skipped a beat. She blinked, unsure if she'd heard correctly. "What do you mean? Isn't this his quarters too? The bed… the room… this is where we—"

The maid lowered her gaze. "This... this wing is for you, madam, alone." She paused, then added, "young master Leone has separate quarters, as is customary. His rooms are not to be shared."

Evelina stood frozen for a moment, the words sinking in. Her chest tightened as the reality of the situation became painfully clear. This was her space, her room, her solitary space, and Leone had no intention of joining her. Not tonight.

She felt a lump form in her throat, a surge of emotion rising within her chest. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. "I see," she said, her voice quieter than before. "So… that's how it is."

The maid seemed to sense the sudden shift in Evelina's mood. She glanced nervously at the door, as if unsure how much more she should say.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Madam Evelina?" the maid asked, her voice gentle but careful, knowing not to press any further.

Evelina shook her head, the weight of the evening's disappointment settling over her like a heavy cloak. "No. You may go."

The maid gave a small bow and left the room, the soft click of the door closing behind her echoing in the silence that followed. Evelina remained standing by the window, the cool night air drifting through the open panes.

Evelina sat on her bed and clenched the bedpost, her knuckles white. Separate quarters? The words echoed in her mind, not as a surprise but as a confirmation of her deepest fear.

She had stepped into this arrangement knowing she might be unwanted, but hearing it aloud brought a fresh sting. No matter. If Leone had no intention of standing beside her, she would make sure she stood tall on her own.

The following morning arrived too quickly. The sky was overcast, the air thick with the promise of rain. Evelina had spent the night trying to piece together a strategy, but the more she thought about Camille's words, the more tangled her thoughts became. She had to remain calm. She had to keep her composure.

Her hands moved automatically as she prepared tea, setting out the finest cups and teapot she could find in her kitchen, the delicate china gleaming in the dim morning light.

The smell of the tea—strong and fragrant—mingled with the faint scent of lavender from the garden outside. It was the perfect setting for a calm, controlled conversation. But inside, Evelina was anything but calm.

When the knock came at the door, Evelina's heart skipped a beat. She straightened herself, smoothing her dress and forcing a smile onto her lips. Camille's visit was not unexpected, but its arrival still felt like the shadow of an impending storm.

"Come in," Evelina called, her voice steady.

The door creaked open, and there stood Camille, her posture elegant and poised as always. Her eyes surveyed the room with sharp precision before settling on Evelina.

"Good morning," Camille greeted, her voice smooth, like silk sliding over stone. There was an edge to it that Evelina couldn't ignore.

"Good morning, Mrs Hargrave" Evelina replied, keeping her smile in place, though her hands betrayed her tension as she poured the tea.

Camille moved further into the room, her presence filling the space. She sat without invitation, a graceful motion that spoke of authority, of someone accustomed to being obeyed. Evelina set the teacup in front of Camille, her eyes searching the woman's face, looking for any hint of her plans.

"I trust you've been well," Camille said, lifting her teacup, her gaze never leaving Evelina's. The words sounded innocent enough, but Evelina felt the weight of the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

"Quite well, thank you," Evelina replied, taking a seat opposite her, her fingers tightening around her own teacup.

Camille gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, and for a moment, Evelina thought she might actually enjoy this conversation. But that thought was fleeting, replaced quickly by the tension in her own chest.

Camille's smile widened, devoid of warmth. She set her cup down with a soft clink. "Your tea is remarkable," she said, her tone deceptively light. "I've been thinking about you lately, Evelina. You've proven yourself... quite resourceful."

Evelina raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to take it as a compliment or a warning. "I'm flattered. And what have you been thinking about me?"

Camille leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpening. "To think you were able to deceive me," she said, her voice soft but cold. "Few people dare. Fewer succeed." She paused, letting the words linger before adding, "But don't mistake my interest for approval."

Evelina's chest tightened, but she kept her face neutral, her fingers curling around the teacup in her lap. She knew Camille was waiting for a reaction—a crack in her composure that would reveal just how much her words had landed. But Evelina refused to give her that satisfaction.

"I wouldn't dare mistake your words for approval, Mrs. Hargrave," Evelina said evenly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But it seems we share one thing in common: a love for precision. I find your interest… enlightening."

Camille's eyes narrowed just slightly, enough to show that Evelina's calm reply hadn't gone unnoticed. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with the elegance of someone used to commanding a room.

"Precision, yes," Camille said, her tone thoughtful, almost amused. "It's a valuable trait. One I've found is often lacking in people who stumble their way into power." She paused, her gaze piercing as it fixed on Evelina. "Or into families."

Evelina felt the barb strike, but she maintained her composure, taking a sip of her tea to buy herself a moment. Camille was testing her boundaries, probing for weaknesses. If she responded emotionally, it would only confirm whatever suspicions the older woman had.

"I agree," Evelina replied smoothly, setting her cup down with deliberate grace. "But stumbling implies a lack of intent, doesn't it? And I believe intent matters greatly in determining one's success."

Camille's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "How insightful of you."

The air between them grew heavier, thick with unspoken challenges. Evelina knew Camille's game well—this was a battle of wills, one Evelina couldn't afford to lose. She glanced briefly out the window, noting the dark clouds gathering on the horizon, and wondered if the storm outside would be less daunting than the one brewing in this room.

Camille broke the silence first, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Tell me, Evelina, have you considered what your role in this family truly means? A marriage of convenience may seem simple on the surface, but there are… expectations."

Evelina met her gaze, unflinching. "I'm aware of my role, Mrs. Hargrave. And I fully intend to meet those expectations—whatever they may be."

"Good," Camille said, tilting her head slightly as though studying Evelina under a microscope. "Because failing to do so would be… unfortunate. For everyone involved."

Evelina felt a chill run down her spine at the veiled threat, but she didn't waver. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not in the habit of failing."

She's strong, that's what I like about her. Camille's gaze sharpened as she studied Evelina. No need to demand for an explaination on why she's my son's wife and not Maya. Maya was never the right choice—her smiles are obviously too rehearsed, her gestures too fake. My instincts told me she lacked substance.

The rumor about Leone being disfigured was my test. I wanted to see who would endure, who would stand by him. Maya ran, but Evelina stayed. She could've fled too, but she didn't. That speaks volumes about her character.

Satisfied, Camille allowed herself a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. For now, she's passed. But this is just the beginning.

"Very well," Camille said, rising to her feet with fluid grace. "I look forward to seeing how you adapt to your new life here. After all, you've already proven to be full of surprises."

Evelina stood as well, keeping her posture steady and her expression calm. "And I look forward to proving that I'm more than capable of handling whatever challenges come my way."

Camille gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and made her way to the door. She paused just before leaving, glancing back over her shoulder. "Do let me know if you need anything, Evelina. I'm always here to… guide you."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Evelina alone once more. She exhaled slowly, the tension draining from her shoulders.

Evelina sank into her chair, the remnants of tension slowly unwinding. "That woman isn't easy to talk to," she murmured, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips. Yet a flicker of satisfaction warmed her chest. She hadn't cracked.