Page 190 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

The perfect mask.

Carol had almost reached the group when Lucinda looked up and saw her.

Her cousin's face lit up with what appeared to be genuine joy. "Caroline!" she exclaimed, stepping forward with her hands outstretched. "Oh, how wonderful to see you! You look absolutely radiant!"

Carol painted on her own warm smile. "Lucinda. It's been too long."

"Far too long," Lucinda agreed, taking Carol's hands and squeezing them. "Look at you! Pregnancy suits you beautifully. You're glowing!"

The other ladies murmured polite agreements, their eyes curious as they looked between the cousins.

"Thank you," Carol said sweetly. "Lucinda, could we speak privately for a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

A flash of something—curiosity? Suspicion?—crossed Lucinda's face, but her smile never wavered. "Of course! Ladies, if you'll excuse me."

She linked her arm through Carol's as if they were the closest of friends. "Where shall we go?"

"There should be guest rooms down this corridor," Carol said, guiding them away from the ballroom.

They walked in companionable silence, passing servants and other nobles. Carol kept her expression pleasant, nodding politely to those they passed.

Finally, they reached a small guest room—empty, quiet, private.

Carol opened the door and gestured for Lucinda to enter first. Once they were both inside, Carol closed the door firmly behind them.

The moment the latch clicked, Carol dropped her smile.

Lucinda's expression shifted as well, becoming more guarded. "What's this about, Caroline?"

"I know what you did that night," Carol said calmly.

Lucinda blinked. "What night?"

"The ball. Five months ago. The garden." Carol's voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "I know what you did."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Lucinda said, but there was a slight tension in her shoulders now.

"You can drop the act, Lucinda," Carol said. "We're alone. There's no one here to perform for."

"I'm not performing—"

"You're in love with Percival Sinclair," Carol stated flatly. "You have been for years. And that night, you deliberately sent Caspian to the garden instead of Percival."

Lucinda's eyes widened. "That's absurd! I would never—"

"You told Percival that Rosalie was looking for him in the ballroom," Carol continued, her tone still calm. "And you suggested to Caspian that the eastern gardens were lovely for a quiet walk. You knew exactly what you were doing."

"You're mistaken," Lucinda said, but her voice had gone higher, defensive. "Why would I do such a thing? You're my cousin! I've always supported you!"

"Have you?" Carol asked. "Because from where I stand, you've spent the better part of a decade encouraging my worst behaviors, isolating me socially, and positioning yourself as the 'good cousin' while making sure I failed at every turn."

"That's not true!" Lucinda's mask was cracking now, anger seeping through. "I was trying to help you! You were obsessed with Percival, making a fool of yourself—"

"And you made sure that obsession led to my downfall," Carol said. "You sabotaged the plan. You wanted me trapped in a miserable marriage so you could have Percival for yourself."

Lucinda's face had gone pale, then flushed with anger. "You have no proof of any of this. You're just bitter because your pathetic attempt to seduce Percival failed spectacularly."

"I'm not bitter," Carol said, and she meant it. "Actually, I'm grateful."