The morning sunlight filtered through the grand windows of Eleanor's sitting room, casting golden hues over the soft velvet drapes.
She sat with Lady Mariel, a familiar presence who had become one of her few trusted confidantes in court. The two women lounged on the settee, their tea untouched as Eleanor recounted the details of the previous evening.
"It was going well," Eleanor sighed, running a delicate finger along the rim of her teacup. "Duke Leopold seemed to favor me. I could tell by the way he spoke—measured, interested. He approves of my engagement to Prince Adrian."
Lady Mariel smiled. "That's good news. He's a man of great influence, Eleanor. If you've won his support, then it's only a matter of time before the rest follow."
Eleanor hesitated. "Not all of them, Mariel. Princess Abigail despises me."
At the mention of Abigail's name, Lady Mariel's expression shifted, her brows furrowing. "She was that open about it?"
