Jessamyn walked up the stairs, her heart pumping with adrenalin. She saw Celena strolling around the hall getting fawned over by sycophants.
If a mistress could walk amidst the sea of disdainful eyes with her head held high, Jessamyn didn't find the need to keep her head low.
What did I do wrong? I didn't betray my country! I didn't hurt anyone! I didn't steal anyone's property! I didn't throw soil in anyone's food! Why should I accept the mockery?
Joar was right. She should fight for her respect. If she needed to survive in this place, she needed to steel her face and sharpen her tongue.
As she approached the ladies, her scowl melted away, replaced by an innocent smile.
"Ah… Lady Ethel," she held the arm of the lady and pulled her closer. The old lady couldn't handle her pull and almost stumbled but managed to gain her balance. Jessamyn didn't bother to help her.
