After that day, Gloria stayed during Valeria's meals, and they would talk about everything and nothing. Gloria spoke fondly of her daughter, Selena. As she'd mentioned before, Selena was nearly the same age as Valeria. Valeria learned that they lived in a small cottage in the village near the palace, but because Gloria had to stay at the palace for work, her daughter lived alone. Valeria was already planning for the day she could gather her jewelry from her family's estate and sell it, just to give Gloria enough to retire comfortably. The woman was old, her work visibly tiring her, and Valeria could tell she missed her daughter dearly.
As Gloria shared stories of her life, Valeria found herself doing the same. She confided in Gloria about her love for reading, especially romance, and how she adored music, even if she was hopelessly unskilled at it herself. She laughed while recounting her early days of sword training, remembering how the other noble girls looked down on her for doing something so "unladylike." When it came to family, Valeria spoke of her father, foolish and a bit naive, but always loving. She avoided mentioning her mother, the disappointment still too fresh. As for her half-brother, Maximilian… that was a pain buried deep, a childhood trauma she wasn't ready to face.
In the forced solitude of her chambers, moments with Gloria—and occasionally Beth, when she could visit—became her only solace. For the first time in weeks, Valeria felt a faint glimmer of peace. The king had been gone for longer than expected, and she couldn't help but hope he'd remain away, maybe even suffer an accident on the journey back. The thought made her smile as she lounged on her bed, engrossed in a book Gloria had managed to sneak in for her.
Once, Gloria had confessed her worries about spending so much time with Valeria. She was a little afraid of being punished for breaking the rules, especially for sneaking books out of the library. But Valeria had reassured her, promising that she would protect her. After all, she might be locked away in this room, now bound to the king as his wife, but her status was still high enough to shield Gloria—wasn't it? No one could question Gloria if Valeria declared her actions acceptable. Well, perhaps only the king could… but why would he care about a mere maid? He had far more important matters to tend to.
Then, a knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. It wasn't Gloria or Beth, but another maid. Strange—no one else had ever come to her room before.
"My lady, I was sent to fetch you. Lady Lara wishes to meet with you," the maid said politely.
An uneasy feeling crept over her, but she brushed it aside. The maid helped her into a simple light blue gown embroidered with delicate flowers, and then led her down the corridor. Two guards trailed behind, a constant reminder that she was still a prisoner here. But as they stepped into the gardens, Valeria felt a rush of joy. She was outside. She took in a deep breath, savoring the crisp autumn air, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. The sun stood high, casting a warm glow despite the chill of late autumn. She hadn't felt fresh air in over a month.
She hadn't thought to bring a cloak, but the maid had remembered and handed it to her. Valeria slipped it on just as she saw Lara, standing among a cluster of chrysanthemums and asters. The sight of her was striking; her red hair flowed behind her in the breeze, and her light dress complemented her fiery locks. She seemed lost in thought.
"Good afternoon, Lady Lara," Valeria greeted, curtsying.
Lara startled, then offered a soft smile. "Valeria… I'm glad you came. I apologize for the short notice, but I wanted to speak with you. Would you mind taking a stroll with me through the gardens?"
Valeria nodded, though she was puzzled by Lara's request. They'd just met a week ago, so what could Lara have to say? But the reason hardly mattered. She was outside, and that alone was worth any conversation. As they walked, she relished the freedom, unsure how she'd bear returning to her bedchamber—her prison—after this taste of fresh air.
It wasn't until they'd walked a fair distance that Valeria noticed the tense silence between them, as though Lara was gathering her thoughts. She felt self-conscious for seeming to ignore her companion and quickly spoke up.
"What was it you wanted to discuss?"
Lara didn't respond immediately, and they continued walking until they were far enough from the guards. When she finally spoke, her words hit Valeria like a hammer.
"The king returned an hour ago."
Valeria felt her heart stutter. "W-what?" She couldn't hide the tremor in her voice.
Lara's gaze grew distant. "The king returned, and he's in a foul mood. I thought it wise to warn you. I've known him for decades, and when he's like this… he can be irrational. Since you're new here, I wanted to advise you: don't do or say anything foolish."
Her voice was cold, devoid of emotion. Fear and panic twisted inside Valeria. "What… what exactly does that mean?"
Lara averted her gaze. "It means what it means. You should go back to your quarters and keep a low profile. I'll excuse myself now."
As Lara turned, Valeria caught sight of her neck—the horrible, purple bruises marring her skin. They were angry, vicious marks, visible even from a distance. Did the king do that to her? Was that why she'd been warned? The thought made Valeria's blood run cold. She couldn't believe it. Could the king have hit Lara? She tried to convince herself that perhaps she was mistaken, but how else could Lara have gotten such bruises?
Before Valeria could ask, Lara walked away without another word. The guards led her back to her quarters, but fear knotted tightly in her chest, each beat of her heart louder and faster. Her brief moment of peace was over. The king was back.