Once Cynthia's carriage arrived at the mansion, she stepped out without waiting for Dylan to escort her out of the carriage.
She hurried through the hallways, her footsteps quick and deliberate, while the curious gazes of the servants followed her every move.
"Her Highness is back?"
"She seems strange tonight…"
"I've never seen her like this…"
"Did someone anger her?"
They whispered among themselves, undoubtedly wondering what had happened at the party to cause such a rush.
Reaching her bedroom, she slammed the door shut behind her with a loud thud.
She looked around, disoriented as if she didn't recognize her own bedroom's settings. Her hands trembled as she fumbled through the desk drawer, desperately searching for her diary. She needed something to ground herself, something to hold on to after everything that had happened.
