Capítulo 11: First Encounter

Selena tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Tell your mistress friend Clara she doesn't have to live in the shadows anymore," she said coolly. "I'll fulfil her wish."

Before the women could respond, the boutique owner clapped her hands, summoning the guards. "Please escort these ladies out," she instructed.

The guards appeared almost instantly, ushering the protesting women out of the boutique. As per Selena's request, they were officially blacklisted.

Selena stood before an array of gowns in the boutique, feeling as though she was drowning in a sea of black fabric.

Every dress the boutique owner presented seemed to reinforce the same theme: mourning. The previous Selena had clearly cultivated an image of herself as a cold and unapproachable figure, but now that Selena had taken her place, it was time for a change.

The boutique owner, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a discerning fashion sense held up yet another black gown adorned with silver accents. "This one is truly exquisite, my lady," she said, her tone reverent. "It will highlight your silver hair beautifully, just as your usual style does."

Selena blinked at the gown, her lips twitching into a small, awkward smile.

She couldn't fault the owner for assuming her preferences, but the idea of wearing yet another black dress made her stomach churn. "It's lovely," Selena said diplomatically, "but I think I'd like to try something different this time."

The owner froze, her hands clutching the dress tightly. "Different?" she echoed, her voice carefully neutral.

"Yes," Selena replied, her smile growing more confident. "I trust your judgment. Surprise me."

For a moment, the boutique owner simply stared at Selena, as though she had misheard. Then, slowly, her lips curled into a delighted smile. "Leave it to me, my lady," she said, her tone brimming with excitement. "I will create something truly remarkable."

Selena nodded, pleased by the woman's enthusiasm. As the owner began taking her measurements, Selena allowed herself to relax. The owner worked swiftly and precisely, muttering to herself about fabrics, colours, and embellishments.

"I must say, my lady," the owner said as she measured Selena's waist, "you are truly a vision. Designing for you is a dream come true. When you appear at the royal ball, I want every eye to be on you."

Selena chuckled softly. "You seem very passionate about your work."

"Passionate is an understatement," the owner replied with a grin. "This gown will take every ounce of my skill and time, but it will be worth it. Mark my words, my lady—it will be the most magnificent dress I have ever created."

Selena couldn't help but admire the woman's determination. "Then I look forward to seeing it," she said warmly.

The owner's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "It will be ready in two days. I will not rest until it's perfect."

Satisfied, Selena left the boutique, her mood lighter than it had been in weeks. The owner's enthusiasm had been infectious, and Selena found herself looking forward to seeing the finished gown.

With some time to spare before returning home, Selena decided to take a stroll through the bustling streets of the capital.

The city was alive with activity, merchants hawking their wares nobles mingling, and no commoner in sight. Selena kept her head high, ignoring the occasional whisper or sideways glance directed her way.

As she wandered, the aroma of freshly baked pastries caught her attention. Following the scent, Selena found herself standing in front of a quaint pastry shop.

The sight of rows upon rows of golden-brown treats displayed in the window made her stomach rumble. Because of the atmosphere during breakfast, she couldn't eat as much as she wanted to.

Without much thought, Selena stepped inside, the warm scent of sugar and butter enveloping her.

The shop was cosy, with small tables lining the walls and a counter filled with pastries of every shape and size. She approached the counter, her eyes scanning the options.

"Clara, you simply must try the almond tart. It's their speciality."

Selena's heart sank as she turned her head, her gaze landing on none other than Nicholas, the Northern Duke. He sat at a table near the window, his golden hair catching the sunlight as he smiled warmly at the woman sitting across from him—Clara.

She felt restless, well it was the original Selena's feelings. She, on the other hand, did not give a damn about them.

As she approached the counter to place her order, Nicholas's gaze shifted toward her. His smile faltered, and his expression hardened.

"Selena," he said coolly, his voice devoid of warmth.

Clara turned to look as well, her eyes widening in surprise. "Lady Selena," she said, her tone polite but hesitant.

Selena met their gazes with a calm, unreadable expression. "Nicholas. Clara," she said, her voice steady. "What a coincidence."

Nicholas's jaw tightened. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone accusatory.

"Take a wild guess. Why would I be in a pastry shop?" She said with sarcasm.

Nicholas didn't expect this. He expected her to kick up a fuss but he didn't expect she would direct her sarcasm at him.

Clara flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. "We didn't mean to be rude," she said quickly. "It's just... Unexpected to see you here."

Selena looked at her up and down and ignored her completely. This made Clara extremely self-conscious. She felt like she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

Nicholas's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Clara, ever the peacemaker, forced a smile and gestured to the counter. "The almond tart is quite good," she offered. "You should try it."

Selena's lips curved into a faint smile. "Perhaps I will," she said, turning back to the counter. She placed her order and paid, ignoring the weight of Nicholas's gaze on her back.

When her order was ready, Selena chose a table on the opposite side of the shop, far enough to avoid any further interaction with the pair but close enough to observe them.

The place was in silence. The noble ladies around them expected a fight, some drama or some gossip, but nothing was happening. They watched with their breath held.