At Salviana's question about the garden, Jean glanced around, studying the bare soil, the freshly pruned hedges, and the emptiness that awaited Salviana's touch. "It does, my lady. Though it seems it's waiting for something… or someone."
Salviana's smile deepened as she glanced down at her teacup. "It is. I have plans to bring it to life with flowers and herbs. It's barren now, but in time, I think it will become a beautiful space."
Jean's eyes sparkled with interest. "What sort of flowers do you envision here?"
"Oh, a variety," Salviana replied, a touch of excitement in her tone. "Roses, for their boldness. Lavender, for the calm it brings. Perhaps even wildflowers, to give it a bit of whimsy. I want it to be a garden that feels… free, you know? A place where one could forget for a moment that they're within the castle walls."
Jean nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of her tea. "It sounds like it will become a sanctuary—a place that speaks to who you are, my lady."
Salviana glanced down with a shy smile. "That's the hope. It's strange, though, to think that something so simple as a garden could mean so much." She looked out across the space, a bit of wistfulness in her eyes.
"But it's always been the small things that give me peace—the wind, painting, looking at books, a patch of sunlight, a cup of tea on a quiet afternoon."
Jean tilted her head, observing the princess with admiration. "You appreciate life's little beauties. I can see why His Grace admires you so."
Salviana's cheeks flushed at the mention of Alaric, and she covered her reaction by lifting her teacup to her lips. After a small sip, she glanced back at Jean. "And what of you, Miss Goliath? Have you found such peace in your own life, or do you long for it?"
Jean looked momentarily taken aback by the question but then smiled faintly. "I think I'm still searching for it. Peace is elusive for some, though it seems a bit closer here in your company."
Jean couldn't tell her lady she was slowly losing her sanity since she arrived.
The two women shared a smile, finding in each other a sense of companionship. Salviana looked down at her teacup, then back at the garden, feeling a renewed eagerness to bring it to life.
"So, what do princesses do around here?" Jean asked casually, slipping naturally back into her role as lady-in-waiting, but with a faint gleam of curiosity.
Salviana laughed, sensing Jean's candid honesty. "You don't know either, do you?"
Jean smiled, sheepishly admitting, "I got lucky, my lady. I still can't believe I landed this position."
"Alaric must see something in you," Salviana said softly, glancing at her with a warmth that suggested trust.
Jean forced a smile, hiding a flicker of sadness in her eyes. Or he's as controlled as I am, she thought to herself, but quickly shook off the feeling.
"Actually, I came to ask your permission to establish a formal schedule for you—a princess's routine," Jean announced, lifting her tea cup gracefully. "Something to help ease you into the whole system here."
Salviana blushed, caught off guard by the formality. "You have my full permission, Jean. Do whatever you think is best."
"Of course, my lady," Jean nodded, setting her tea cup down. "Thank you. I'll get started at once. It's time you joined the Velthorne."
Salviana's eyes lit up with curiosity. "The Velthorned? That sounds… regal."
Jean nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "The inner circle of noble ladies who shape the castle's events, etiquette, and influence. You, of course, belong among them."
"Wait—Emma, the basket, please," Salviana called suddenly, and Emma quickly brought over the basket of hand fans.
"Here you are, my lady," Emma said, bowing slightly.
Salviana took the basket, holding it out to Jean. "Would you like a fan? Choose one, please."
Jean's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she selected a light pink fan, delicately crafted with intricate lace details. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said, her smile genuine.
Salviana nodded. "I'll see you soon?"
Jean gave a respectful nod, tucking the fan into her sash. "Yes, Your Grace. I'll return shortly."
Watching Jean walk away, Salviana leaned back in her seat, taking in the gentle breeze and savoring a rare moment of calm before heading back inside.
For the first time, she felt a part of something bigger, a part of the castle's pulse and rhythm, and that sense of belonging brought her unexpected joy.
And she would help the seventh princess however way she can.
Jean was making her way to the main hall when she noticed two figures approaching: Lady Margaretha, who wore an overly elaborate dress that was almost comical in its gaudiness, and Fifth Princess Lilian, who carried herself with the poise and elegance befitting her station.
Lilian's gown was a masterpiece of delicate fabric and fine embroidery, the shimmering colors highlighting her status as the crown princess and wife to the eldest prince, Benjamin.
Jean paused, offering a respectful nod, but Lilian, her expression sharp and scrutinizing, looked her over with clear skepticism. "I know every face within these walls," Lilian said, her tone icy. "Who are you?"
Jean kept her composure, responding with a small, respectful smile. "Your Grace, my name is Jean Goliath. I am the new lady-in-waiting to the seventh princess, Salviana."
Lady Margaretha's face twisted into a look of scorn. "She replaced me with you?" she scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "I served her loyally, and yet, this is how I am repaid? I shouldn't be surprised… Salviana is fickle, and you'll learn soon enough that her loyalty is as fleeting as a gust of wind."
Lilian gave Margaretha a disapproving glance but refrained from speaking. Turning her gaze back to Jean, she offered a more composed response, though there was an air of dismissal. "I am Lilian Velthorne, Fifth Princess and Crown Princess of this kingdom. I was not informed of your arrival."