As Landgrave Vincent left, Yohana finally felt the weight lifting off her chest. She staggered back, her breathing labored.
"Lady Runa, are you all right? You look pale," Duchess Nora's voice held genuine concern.
Yohana gathered herself, determined not to let her emotions betray her. "Forgive me, Your Grace. Please allow me a moment to regain my composure. You may return to the drawing room if you wish. I will join you shortly," she managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt.
Duchess Nora hesitated, her gaze lingering with worry, but eventually, she acquiesced, walking away with deliberate slowness as if providing Yohana the time she needed to recover.
Left alone, Yohana took a deep breath, grounding herself in the present reality. She reminded herself that she was no longer the helpless child of the past, at the mercy of sinister forces. If Landgrave Vincent dared to cross any lines now, Yohana was prepared to defend herself.
Her gaze fell to her trembling palms, a vivid reminder of the haunting memories that had resurfaced.
"I'm a grown-up now. I can protect myself," she whispered, a mantra to banish the ghosts of her past. She clenched her fists, feeling the tension and releasing it gradually as if symbolically letting go of the past.
Gradually, the drumming of her heart slowed to a more regular rhythm. Yohana felt a renewed determination to face the challenges ahead. She knew she couldn't let this unexpected encounter with her past undermine her efforts to navigate the complex dynamics of the royal court.
With renewed resolve, she walked purposefully, catching up with Duchess Nora, who seemed relieved that she wouldn't have to return to the drawing room alone.
Stepping back into the drawing room, Yohana couldn't ignore the atmosphere that seemed to have taken a venomous turn. The ladies were huddled together, their conversation revolving around her and Duchess Nora, with derogatory undertones.
It was difficult to ascertain whether Queen Emma had orchestrated this narrative or if the ladies had simply succumbed to their own cattiness.
"Ah, Lady Runa, the enchantress of not only looks but also words," Baroness Monica chimed in with a smug smile.
Queen Emma's response was laden with sarcasm, "Well, my son is a healthy young man, ripe for marriage. If a sumptuous feast is laid in front of a hungry man, it would be unnatural for him not to partake, don't you think?"
A chorus of agreement followed her words, a twisted symphony of snide commentary. "Indeed, Duchess Nora could take a leaf out of Lady Runa's book when it comes to engaging a man's attention. Perhaps a lesson or two in the art of seduction?" Countess Laura sneered.
Margravine Finya joined in, her voice dripping with malice, "Yes, it's rather fitting. Considering that Duchess Nora has been conveniently kept hidden away by Duke Kilian for years, she could certainly benefit from Lady Runa's expertise."
Baroness Yasmin's chuckle pierced the air, a knowing twist to her lips. "What if this gathering serves as her lone chance? A test to ascertain if she can meet her husband's standards? Failure could spell the end, perhaps even a divorce," she mused.
Beatrice, however, brought a different perspective, her voice carrying a tone of innocence, "But it's widely known that Duke Kilian holds deep affection for his wife. My father has often lamented work delays due to his unwavering devotion to her."
A dismissive wave of Lady Felizia's hand silenced Beatrice's input, her words a barricade against the girl's naivete. The other ladies, like hounds scenting a distraction, diverted their attention elsewhere, leaving Beatrice's opinion unheeded in the chaos of disdainful chatter.
The venomous remarks swirled around the room, laced with veiled insults and smug satisfaction. Yohana's gut churned at the cruelty displayed before her. It was as if they reveled in tearing down others to elevate themselves.
Each insult pierced Duchess Nora's heart. Her fingers clenched her skirt as if to anchor herself amid the storm, her head bowed to shield her tears from the prying eyes that reveled in her suffering.
In this sea of spite, Yohana extended a comforting hand, her touch a lifeline in the tempest of cruelty. As she spoke, her voice cut through the tension like a soothing breeze.
"Lady Beatrice's insight is a beacon of reason. The Princess Eleanor scandal is a testament to how rumors, left unchecked, can morph into monsters. It's the unbridled tongues of those who neglect to discern truth that truly fuel the fires of falsehood."
Beatrice glanced around, feeling the icy daggers from her mother and aunt toward the spearker, both of whom disliked Yohana greatly.
Yohana, still holding Duchess Nora's hand, moved gracefully back to her seat. Her words, a final shield against the onslaught, carried the weight of compassion. "Your Grace, don't let the poison of those words seep into your heart. And remember, you're not alone. For the sake of your little one, hold your head high."
Seated once again, the room buzzed with the aftermath of the clash. Yet amidst the murmurs, Yohana's voice rose like a crescendo.
"Consider this," Yohana began, her tone steady yet compelling. "Could a man untouched by desire lay a hand on her? Duchess Nora's absence from these gatherings doesn't signify her husband's embarrassment. Instead, it is due to his fierce protection, his desire to shield her from the ravenous nature of high society."
A symphony of gasps and murmurs played in response, as Yohana's audacious words shook the room. Unyielding, she pressed on, her words a sledgehammer against their biases.
"But let's not stop at appearances," Yohana continued, her voice unapologetic. "The duke's love for the duchess is fervent, igniting their connection with each exchanged glance. A love so potent that it manifests in their intimate moments, every night."
Duchess Nora blushed, "Lady Runa, that's a bit—"
Some ladies shifted uneasily, the explicitness of Yohana's words pushing their comfort zones. A rebuke started to form, only to be smothered by Yohana's next assertion.
"However," Yohana's tone turned resolute, her gaze steady on Duchess Nora, who was blushing in the spotlight of Yohana's words, "this devoted connection exacted a toll on Duchess Nora's body. It wasn't Duke Kilian's intent to isolate her, but the natural outcome of their bond."
As the room erupted in protests, Yohana stood firm, deflecting each argument with precision. Queen Emma's eventual departure marked the end of the confrontation, leaving a lingering silence in her wake. The other ladies, rendered speechless, shunned both Yohana and Duchess Nora.