There was no sound... except for her heavy breathing, and the cold that lingered despite the blanket.

Then… soft knocks.

The door opened without waiting for permission, and three maids entered at once.

The first placed a water jug on the table, the second carried a neatly folded simple dress, and the third opened the curtains.

They said nothing.

They didn’t look at her directly.

But the silence between them said everything.

Quick glances, tense expressions, a silent collusion unspoken… but deeply felt.

Accumulated contempt, wrapped in duty.

Irene didn’t comment.

She stood quietly and sat in front of the mirror.

The first maid began brushing her hair, while the second helped her into the plain gray dress. No royal colors, no elaborate adornments.

Their movements were mechanical, cold, deliberately devoid of care.

When one of the maids tied the ribbon at her back a little too tightly, Irene said nothing.

And when the other fastened a button near her neck with rough hands, she didn’t flinch.

Irene saw it all in the mirror.

The glances, the doubt, the hatred, the unspoken questions.

She stood once she was ready.

She paused at the mirror... her face calm, but not weak.

One of the maids opened the door in silence.

Irene walked past them without looking back.

But she knew exactly what was happening behind her.

She saw them…

And remembered.

---

She left the room with steady steps, never looking back.

The long corridors seemed quieter than usual. No one approached her… no one dared speak.

She descended the marble stairs silently, crossed the palace’s inner courtyard, and reached the royal garden.

A gentle breeze touched the hem of her dress, and the scent of blooming roses greeted her as always.

She didn’t stop… she walked down the stone path until she reached the glasshouse, the hidden corner nestled among the plants.

She pushed the glass door open softly and stepped inside.

Everything was as she left it…

Quiet, elegant, bathed in dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.

The small table in the corner, the white teacup on its saucer, and the ceramic teapot still warm from the maid’s earlier visit.

She sat quietly and began sipping her usual morning tea.

Silence filled the space…

Until it was broken by the unexpected entrance of two people.

---

The head butler entered with orderly steps, followed by a stranger carrying a rolled-up leather folder and an open notebook.

The butler bowed with restrained respect and spoke in a low voice:

“Miss Irene, this is Mr. Morale, the ceremony coordinator for the upcoming event. He was sent by the royal office to review some details with you.”

She nodded silently.

The coordinator stepped forward with measured steps, opened his notebook, and began speaking formally.

Irene nodded again without looking long.

He spoke briefly about some arrangements.

She replied calmly, with few and clear words.

He nodded respectfully and sought her opinion on everything—timing, jewelry, presentation.

Irene responded with steady tone, no hesitation… no unnecessary interest.

Just as the meeting neared its end, footsteps crunched on the gravel behind them…

---

The glass door opened quietly… but the presence that entered was loud.

Selina stepped in first, confident, as if the ground was rolled out just for her.

Behind her came Leora, graceful steps, a strong perfume, and an amused smile.

Selina scanned the space and said:

“What a coincidence… We didn’t know you were hosting meetings this early.”

She glanced at the coordinator, then walked in without invitation,

reached out, and snatched one of the papers from his hand.

“Hmmm… color choices… entrance order… directing glances…”

She read aloud, then laughed:

“Since when are you a ceremony expert? Or have you been hiding these talents all these years?”

Leora laughed as well, her tone soft and mocking:

“Maybe he just needed a new source of inspiration... and it seems he finally found one.”

The coordinator looked flustered and began gathering his papers quickly.

The butler stood silently, waiting for any cue.

Selina turned to him and asked, as if she ruled the space:

“Are you done?”

He replied calmly:

“Yes, my lady.”

She smiled and said:

“Wonderful. Then leave, please.”

And added without turning around:

“Tell the maids to bring another pot of tea… for the three of us.”

The butler nodded and left with the coordinator in heavy silence.

Selina walked to the table and sat confidently across from Irene,

Leora sat beside her, both exchanging glances like they were about to enjoy a private show.

The glasshouse was no longer quiet…

It had become a stage, and the audience knew exactly where to strike.

---

All three sat.

Irene in her usual spot, holding her teacup calmly, sipping as if no one sat before her.

Selina and Leora across from her, exchanging looks, preparing for the attack.

Selina said in a falsely cheerful tone:

“I imagine the tea here must be that good… Maybe I should come every morning.”

Leora laughed and said:

“But it seems our guest doesn’t enjoy it much… Or perhaps she just doesn’t like to talk.”

She leaned slightly toward Selina and whispered loudly on purpose:

“Is she… mute?”

Selina raised an eyebrow, smirked, and said aloud, looking at Irene:

“Yes, sort of. You know? When she first came to the palace, she couldn’t speak at all… two full years of total silence.”

Then she added with a venomous tone masked in fake pity:

“Father felt sorry for her, and assigned her a private psychiatrist.”

Leora let out a small laugh, then leaned forward and said:

“Poor thing… the shock and shame must’ve been too much for her.”

Then Selina dropped the final blow, pretending to examine her teacup:

“But in my opinion… she’s just like her mother.”

She looked back at her and added clearly:

“The spy.”

Silence fell.

Irene’s hand was still raised, holding the teacup.

One second… then she placed it down hard on the table.

The sound struck the marble and glass, freezing the air inside the glasshouse for a moment.

Irene raised her head.

A deadly look, direct, without hesitation.

She directed it at Selina alone…

And Selina, despite her composure, couldn’t hide the flicker of unease in her eyes.

Irene stood up, looked at them both silently, then said:

> “Excuse me… I have more important matters to attend to.”

She turned and walked away, unhurried, her steps steady, her back straight.

Selina and Leora remained silent, as if her words still echoed in the air.

Then, once her shadow disappeared from the glass,

Selina pressed her palm to the table’s edge and muttered angrily:

“That bitch… How dare she look at me like that? Father wasn’t wrong when he got her a psychiatrist. She really is insane.”

To be continued....