Everything I just ate soured in my stomach. 

Out of all the characters in the novel, the bullies and enemies, Duke Rune was the one I hated the most. 

As the Duke, he was at the top of the food chain, standing over the rest of the nobility like a lion - quiet, menacing, and always on the edge of great violence. It was mentioned that he had connections at the royal palace, and was well acquainted with the late Emperor. He was a ruthless but incredibly successful businessman. I never read exactly what sort of business he was in, but now that I was face-to-face with him, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

The novel described him as 'a wide-shouldered shadow, looming and quiet, with navy blue hair pulled tightly away from his sharp, angled face.' From what I could see, in the low light of the kitchen, that was about right. He was middle-aged, with the same stern violet eyes as Kenric, and his resting expression was scarily blank. 

Every servant in the kitchen leapt up onto their feet, and folded themselves in half bowing in greetings. I moved a little more slowly, with a careful, studying frown on my face. 

Stepping out into the middle of the kitchen, I felt more backed into a corner than I ever had in my life. His presence was suffocating. Despite that, I presented him with a stiff curtsy, and aimed my hateful glare at the tips of his shoes. 

"Good evening, Father." 

He didn't respond at first, but I could feel him staring at me, his eyes burning holes into the top of my head. Then finally, he spoke.

"Who allowed her in the kitchen?" 

My head shot up in surprise, but he was no longer looking at me. He was staring down the handful of servants behind me, scanning over them in stoic appraisal. 

I realised then the reason why Margo tried so hard to stop me from coming down here, why everyone had looked so scared when I first arrived. It wasn't even stated explicitly in the novel, but based only on context clues...

The Duke had forbidden Evra from being in the kitchen. 

My heart was racing, and my nails were digging into my palms as I stood up straight and squared my shoulders. 

I should have realised sooner, I should have taken Margo's advice or waited to cool off before making such a reckless decision. Just because I knew I was a different person didn't mean I could expect everyone else to just accept that. I couldn't just act however I wanted...everyone was in trouble because of me.

 "I did it myself," I insisted, "They tried to stop me, but I came in anyway, it's not their fault."

His eyes slid down to meet mine. There was nothing behind them. They were dark and empty. Then, they moved back the kitchen staff behind me. 

"Be more vigilant. She should not be allowed near dangerous instruments." 

I heard Josephine's quiet reply: "Yes, your Grace. Please forgive my lack of judgement." 

My jaw was clenched so hard that my whole face ached. 

"I said it's not her fault!" I insisted hotly, my voice echoing loudly off the walls of the kitchen. I sounded petulant, and desperate; exactly how I felt. This must have been how Evra felt, too. Who could bear being ignored so entirely, so completely…? 

Not quite as loudly, I continued: "I - I forced my way in because I was hungry, how can you blame her for -?!" 

"- Silence." He interrupted me quietly, his single word like a spell. My teeth clicked together almost of their own volition, and an angry heat washed over my face. 

Unlike the others, I wasn't afraid of him. Maybe I should have been, I knew the kind of power he had over the house, and the rest of the Empire. He just…reminded me too much of my own dad to back down like that.

Just do what he says, you idiot. You'll make it worse, I thought furiously, fighting against every instinct I had to keep arguing. 

After another brief moment of tense quiet, the Duke made to leave. 

"I will not forgive a second flouting of the rules." 

"Understood, your Grace," Josephine said. 

And without another word he was gone. But even with him gone, the chill in the kitchen remained. 

I turned to look at everyone. They didn't raise their heads, they didn't dare to even glance up. Josephine's expression was hard and set, there was a shine of tears in Louis' eyes. This was the power of the hierarchy in a fantasy novel. They all had been viciously put back into their place.

But where was I supposed to fit in? 

Too far below my family to be an equal, and too far above the servants to be anything but a danger. 

"Josephine, I'm sor -" 

" - You should go now."

My chest wrenched with a painful tightness; her words ran me through. I wanted to argue. I wanted to dig my heels in, but how could I claim it wasn't my fault? How could I explain that I wasn't the Evra they knew? 

I felt like someone had opened a trapdoor under me, like the room was tilted at such a harsh angle I would lose my balance if I took a single step. Then, Margo's voice broke through the diziness: 

"Miss...it's late."

"...Oh. Right, yeah...okay, I just..." I gave one last look at the kitchen staff as the room snapped back into focus, "I want to change for the better. I hope...I hope you can see that." 

Margo stepped up next to me and, with nothing else to say, we left.