Chapter 41
The Last Olive Branch
Carol moved through the ballroom with practiced grace, her hand resting lightly on her belly as she navigated between clusters of nobles.
Lucinda stood in a circle of young ladies near one of the tall windows, laughing at something one of them had said. She looked perfect—honey blonde curls arranged beautifully, her pale pink gown making her seem delicate and sweet, her expression open and friendly.
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."
That stopped Lucinda short. "What?"
"Your sabotage gave me Caspian," Carol said simply. "And I'm very happy with him. Happier than I ever would have been chasing after Percival. So in a way, you did me a favor."
Lucinda stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You're... grateful? You're married to The Butcher of the North! Everyone knows you were miserable!"
"I was," Carol agreed. "For a while. But things change. People change. I love my husband. I'm carrying his child. I have a life I actually want now."
She paused, meeting Lucinda's eyes directly.
"But you're still chasing Percival," Carol continued. "Still scheming. Still interfering. And that's why I wanted to speak with you."
"I'm not—"
"Stop acting like a nice, caring cousin," Carol interrupted. "I know the real you now. I see you clearly. And I'm giving you this warning because, despite everything, you are family."
She stepped closer, her voice firm.
"Stop pursuing Percival. Stop interfering with him and Rosalie. Walk away. It will end badly for you if you don't."
Lucinda's expression hardened into something ugly. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a warning," Carol said. "There are forces at play here that you don't understand. Consequences. The universe has a way of dealing with people who interfere with fate."
"You sound insane," Lucinda said coldly.
"Maybe," Carol said. "But I've seen what happens to people who ignore warnings. I'm trying to save you from making a terrible mistake."
Lucinda laughed—sharp and bitter. "Save me? You? You were never good enough for Percival anyway. You threw yourself at him for years and he never wanted you. Not once."
The words were meant to wound, but Carol felt nothing. No pain, no anger. Just... resignation.
"You're right," Carol said calmly. "He didn't want me. He wanted Rosalie. He still wants Rosalie. And no amount of scheming on your part is going to change that."
"You don't know anything," Lucinda snapped.
"I know enough," Carol said. "I know that you're walking toward disaster with your eyes wide open. But I've warned you. That's all I can do."
Lucinda's face twisted with contempt. "I don't need warnings from you. I don't need anything from you."
She turned and walked to the door, yanking it open.
"Enjoy your monster husband, Caroline," Lucinda said venomously. "You deserve each other."
She swept out of the room, her pink skirts swishing with agitation.
Carol stood there for a moment, alone in the quiet guest room.
Then two familiar presences materialized beside her.
"Well," Missy said, her tiny form glowing red-purple with sarcasm. "That went well."
"Oh dear," Lumi added, her golden glow dimmer than usual with worry. "She's signing her own doom. She won't listen."
Carol sighed, moving to sit on the edge of one of the chairs. Her hand rested on her belly, feeling the small flutter of movement inside.
"I tried to warn her," Carol said quietly. "I did what I could. But she's made her choice."
"She's going to keep interfering," Lumi said. "Keep pursuing Earl Sinclair. Keep trying to sabotage Lady Rosalie."
"And those are death flags," Missy added, surprisingly serious. "Big ones. The game doesn't like it when people mess with the Chosen Heroine."
"I know," Carol said. "But it's not my problem anymore."
She stood, smoothing her gown. "I warned her. I tried. That's all I can do. Whatever happens now is on her."
"You've done your duty as family," Lumi said gently.
"More than she deserved, honestly," Missy muttered.
Carol took a breath and headed toward the door. "Come on. Let's get back to the ball. Caspian is probably looking for me."
"And you don't want to miss the cake service," Missy said, perking up.
Despite everything, Carol smiled. "No. I definitely don't want to miss the cake."
She left the guest room and headed back toward the ballroom, her sprites invisible beside her.
Lucinda had made her choice.
Carol had made hers.
And she knew which one of them was going to end up happier.