The two maids spin around like I just pulled a knife. Their eyes widen as they take me in—bare feet, blood-streaked dress, tangled hair.
“Oh,” the taller one says, halting mid-swipe of the mantel. Her dark hair is pulled into a severe bun that tightens her already severe features. Something about her feels familiar, though I can’t quite place where I’ve seen her before. “We weren’t expecting his lordship to have…company.”
She says the last word like a curse, like I should be embarrassed.
Beside her, the shorter maid flushes, her round cheeks coloring as she averts her gaze to the floor. She shifts awkwardly and clears her throat. “We should, um…” Her voice is soft, almost timid. “Perhaps we should have waited—”
Her gaze flits up to mine briefly before darting away again, and I freeze. She looks just like Elsie from Wilder Ever After. It’s uncanny—the same red hair twisted into a simple braid, the same round eyes, freckled cheeks, and delicate features.
Another doppelgänger, clone, multiverse look-alike.
“Sorry.” She winces. “No one told us Lord Lockhart wasn’t…sleeping alone.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a visiting lord enjoyeda bit ofentertainment,” Pinched Face adds, the edge of her smirk deepening as she glances pointedly at the bed and then back to me. The insinuation hangs heavy in the air, unspoken but crystal clear.
The redhead elbows her. “Clara, stop.”
Clara waves her off. “She knows I’m right.”
My jaw twitches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think it’s fairly clear, don’t you?”
Heat scorches my cheeks. I’m too stunned to clap back. Too thrown by the not-Elsie clone and the fact that this entire morning already feels like an outtake from a Regency-era sex scandal.
“Clara,” the redhead whispers.
Again, Clara waves her off with a flick of her wrist, her sneer widening as she crosses her arms. “No trunks. No other belongings. Just a mysterious woman asleep in his lordship’s bed? A mysteriouspaid woman.”
I clench my teeth, but I force the words out evenly. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”
But honestly, who the hell cares if I were a sex worker? And, side note: If I were, I’d be charging a hell of a lot more than whatever she would guess.
“For heaven’s sake.” I square my shoulders and draw in a steady breath, meeting her gaze head-on. “I don’t know what story you’ve built in your head, but I am not the villain.”
The room falls into a strained silence, the weight of my words pressing against the tension like a hand against a bruise.
Clara’s mouth puckers, and for a fleeting moment, something flickers across her face—regret, maybe, or recognition. Whatever it is, I take it as a win.
Beside her, Not-Elsie nods, her round face flushingas she offers a hesitant smile.
I glance down at my dress and grimace. “Any way you can help me figure out how to look like less like a horror show and more like a human being?”
The door flies open.
Alder barrels in, shirt partially unbuttoned, coat flung over one arm, his hair a perfect mess. He sees me standing and stops. Blue eyes rake over me, wide and sharp and furious with worry.
“Gemma, God.” His voice cracks down the middle as he crosses the room in three long strides. He tosses his velvet coat over the bed and cups my face with both hands like he’s checking for damage. “You scared the shit out of me.”
His thumbs brush my cheeks, his eyes scanning every inch of me as though cataloging what’s left. “You look like hell.” He swallows hard, his jaw tightening. “I can’t have you depreciating now. Not after everything I’ve done to get you back.”
My brows shoot up. “Did you just refer to me as an investment?”
“The castle physician is across the kingdom delivering some noble’s baby,” he continues, ignoring me. “And unfortunately, I left my on-call concierge and team of specialists in a different fucking world.”
“My lord,” Clara says, executing a stiff curtsy. “We’ve come to prepare you for your session with the council. I assumed you’d want to send your…gueston her way.”
“She was injured. She’s not going anywhere.” Alder’s head snaps toward her. “I won’t have her walking off, blacking out, and forgetting where she belongs.”
