Tiara's pov
I replayed Mary and the head maid's words in my mind, hearing their voices echo as if they were speaking right beside me: "He's strict, hard to get, but generous, fair." Each word landed like a puzzle piece that refused to fit, no matter how I turned it around. How could someone be strict and generous at once, or both hard to get and fair? Those words kept circling, as if understanding them would unlock some hidden truth about him—one I wasn't sure I wanted to face. Lost in thought, I barely noticed Mary's hand on my shoulder until she shook me, snapping me back to the present.
"Tiara, here—drink some water. We need to get going." Her voice was soft, but there was a firmness to it that brought me back.
