He did not, in fact, get the hint.

He tailed me the entire way from the manor to the outskirts of the capital, hot on my heels until the very second I arrived at Moonlight Patisserie. To his credit and my absolute disbelief, he wasn’t even remotely out of breath. The second he stepped beside me at the entrance to the patisserie, I was so impressed that I decided to forgive him just this once if for no reason other than his sheer dedication and tenacity.

That, and how bizarrely handsome he managed to look while sprinting after my carriage.

I don’t understand this world.

“May I ask,” Eden finally speaks, apparently having decided to ignore our little ‘disagreement’ about his duties earlier. “What brings you to a place such as this?”

He must read the confusion on my face when I turn to face him, because he quickly elaborates. “Before the, ah… incident… I tended to accompany you to places much more, well, established than this.”

Technically, I don’t have to explain myself to him— I also literally can’t. That’s a question for the original Rosalite, who is most definitely not me.

“Do you disapprove, Eden?” I ask — deflection always works. “Is this patisserie not to your liking?”

“No,” he answers so quickly I almost start. Something indecipherable swirls amidst the hazel of his eyes. “Of course not, my lady. I quite like this patisserie, actually.”

“Good,” I answer, turning my eyes from him and back to the building before me. It’s not the most glorious of establishments, but it is definitely cute and quaint, and peaceful – which is all I’m asking for right now, really. “Then, let’s head in.”

He follows me without another word, posture relaxed but hand casually placed on the hilt of his sword. It doesn’t go unnoticed by me, who happens to be watching his every move like a hawk from my periphery. The more I observe him, the more I come to the conclusion that he is a very skilled knight. Something about him… he has confidence and power rolling from his form with every move. It’s quite impressive.

I swear I’m not normally this easy to impress.

The inside of the patisserie is just as cute as the outside. Decorated in creamy white and accented with baby blue, I can already feel myself calming considerably. The rest of my stress will be taken care of with the excessive amount of carbs I’m about to indulge in. Almost immediately upon entry, my eyes catch upon a counter accompanied by a glass display and I prepare to make a beeline right for it.

“Oh my, Lady Clematis! What a surprise to see you here, of all places!”

Annoyance sparks through me hotly, both at the grating pitch of the voice I just heard and the fact that now as a result of those words, half the bakery has eyes on me. Forcing a smile onto my face, I nod my head lightly to the other customers before turning to face the jerk that just outed me.

Also, I’m not sure I like her tone or her implication.

It’s a woman, almost petite in stature, with strawberry-blonde curls that are almost more pink than blonde, half the locks pinned back and decorated with floral clips that match the summery design of her dress and skirts. Her features are delicate and soft apart from the sharp point of her nose and cheekbones. Clear blue eyes drill into my own, fair but not as frosty as Marion’s — no, these eyes feel more… empty. As though all life would flee them the second she stopped smiling and speaking.

I don’t like her, and that’s even without the gut reaction of Rosalite’s body guiding me to that conclusion.

I’m somewhat stuck as to what to say, especially since while I don’t know who she is, she definitely knows me. It seems she is fond of the sound of her own voice, though, which ends up being very helpful for me because she opens her mouth again before I can blunder through a response.

“I did think to recommend this patisserie to you once or twice, since I do so love it, but I thought it would be a little too plain and simple for your tastes. It is no grand chain bakery, after all!”

She lets out a giggle to soften the edge of her words, but I’m not entirely sure it works. I can tell she’s trying exclusively to antagonise me, but at the same time what she is saying is incredibly rude to the actually owner of this patisserie.

This is Thea’s favourite patisserie, damn it!

“That’s a little presumptuous of you,” I say, before I can think better of it. It does its job of shutting her up before she can speak again, though; the way here eyes widen is almost comical. “I have it on good authority that this is an exceptional little shop. I’m quite fond of small, quiet establishments myself.”

“Ah,” the woman pauses, likely mulling over exactly how to proceed. I didn’t exactly observe the typical unspoken passive-aggressive rules of public disagreements. She lets out a laugh, bringing a gloved hand up to cover her mouth as she does so. I barely catch it as her gaze flits from me to something behind me. “You are right, Lady Clematis! It was a little presumptuous of me. I should be a little more open-minded.”

“Yes, you should.” — is what I want to say, and what I would have said if this damn lady didn’t open her mouth again straight away before I could get a word in edgewise.

“Though, it seems you should be a little more mindful as well. We have chatted this much and you have yet to introduce your companion!” Without missing a beat, she angles her body to face slightly beside me and dips into a curtsy, bowing her head lightly as she does.

“I am Estella Belladonna, fine knight. Who might you be?”

For some reason, learning her name makes my initial annoyance worse, and its only compounded by the look she is now giving to Eden behind me.

It’s odd, since as far as I know one doesn’t normally pay attention to someone else’s guards or knights. Does she perhaps think that Eden is accompanying me for another reason?

“Eden Béchalot, my lady.”

I don’t need to look to know that Eden has returned her courtesy and bowed, frustratingly enough. I feel like a possessive child battling the urge to hide her toys away so she doesn’t have to share them with the other kid she doesn’t like. Ridiculous.

At least I know her name now. It means I can actually say something without struggling to form it politely.

“My apologies, Lady Belladonna,” I say, slapping on a sorry simper for extra effect. “As this wasn’t an official social occasion, it completely slipped my mind. I do hope your curiosity is satisfied for now.”

“Somewhat,” Estella says, stepping out of the way as a couple attempts to exit the shop. Her fingers tap against her brightly painted lips, each touch risking a stain on the material of her gloves. “Though, it does remind me – I’m rather hurt, Lady Clematis.”

Oh for f— why?! Pray tell, why is this woman feeling scorned by Rosalite? I almost don’t want to know.

When I offer nothing to counter her words, she takes it as a sign to continue. “When I heard you had fallen ill, I was ever so worried. I wished to come visit you and wish you well, but you refused my request.” She blinks, eyes growing ever so dewy. “I can’t help but feel hurt, Lady Clematis. I did think you regarded me more warmly than that.”

It takes me a second to process the bold-faced lie she is attempting to throw at me. She would have to know that I know its not true, so the only logical reason she would have for spinning that is to use it to influence Eden’s opinion of me.

I’d probably be worried if he didn’t claim to be someone who guarded me personally the past few months, including when I was ‘unwell’. I get the feeling this isn’t the first time she has done something like this.

“Ah, pardon me, but when exactly was it that you wished to visit?” I bring a hand to my head, attempting to look apologetic. “My memory hasn’t been the best since I got better.”

“Around two weeks ago,” she says immediately, confidently. “When I heard you personally turned me away, I couldn’t help but take it to heart.”

I know for a fact after investigating the situation, that Rosalite was bedridden and unconscious for almost a month.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Belladonna, but it seems you might be a little confused,” I say, a pitying tone slipping into my voice. “I’m unsure what you might have heard, but I was actually unconscious for the entire time I was unwell. It was only a few days ago that I awoke.”

Before she can open her mouth once more, I step back and lift a hand, placing it on Eden’s arm. “If you’d like to verify, you are more than welcome to ask Eden – he was my personal guard over that entire time, after all, and kept a watchful eye on my condition.”

I’m not actually sure whether he did or not, but that’s for me to know and Estella to never find out. I didn’t say it for its truth factor, anyway. I said it for another reason.

Slowly, a red tinge begins to take over Estella’s face, starting from her ears and creeping inwards. I know my words have hit their mark, but honestly she made it a little easy. This is very amateur level bullying, for a woman of her age; its surprising it hasn’t blown up in her face before now. Don’t tell me Rosalite just took it and let her get away with it…?

“Ah, is that so?” Estella’s voice has adopted a slight waver, a nervous giggle slipping out. “I am so sorry, Lady Clematis. It seems I need to more thoroughly check my sources. I was misinformed – I had no idea that was the case.”

“Of course,” I say, unable to help but throw a little salt on the wound. “It’s alright – everyone falls victim to gossip and the rumour mill at least once in their life. I’m sure you won’t be fooled again so easily, Lady Belladonna!”

“Of course not,” Estella says, smiling with every feature at her disposal but her eyes. “I thank you for opening my eyes to the matter, and hope you forgive me for my sleight. I will now excuse myself, I think I have taken up more than enough of your time.”

She is gone before I can think of anything else to say to torture her, which perhaps is fortunate. I don’t exactly want to be living up to the villainess title of the original Rosalite.

A large gust of air escapes me, my chest deflating. That was honestly exhausting – after I get some pastries, I’m going straight home.

“Quick,” I say, tapping Eden on the arm and turning to the counter. “Let’s get some sweets before she comes back and ruins my appetite.”

I could have sworn I heard a snort from behind me, but when I turned to check Eden was completely straight-faced. Huh. Well, not to worry.

Pastries are going to fix whatever worries I have left right now.