I was Tansy, and my only dress was already a lost cause before Oriane touched it.
The dinner had ended. The knives had not.
She did not trip. She aimed.
Oriane: Oh dear. I am so clumsy.
The stain spread like a small red map.
My one dress. My one clean thing.
Oriane: Call it charity. Gray is such a sad color.
Tansy: And cruelty is such a loud one.
The court did what it always did. It smiled and stepped back.
Polite contempt is still contempt.
Then the prince moved. The room moved with him.
Lucan: Take my coat.
Lucan: You are wet and cold. It is only a coat.
Tansy: No.
The hall went quiet. Not shocked. Interested.
Lucan: You would rather freeze than accept a kindness?
Tansy: I would rather freeze than owe you.
Lucan: It is a coat, not a leash.
Tansy: With you, there is no difference.
Oriane: Your Highness is too kind. She is not used to kindness.
Tansy: I am not used to performances. You all do them so badly.
Tansy: Keep your coat, Your Highness.
Tansy: I prefer my own stains.
For a moment he did not look bored.
That was worse than the coat.
I walked out with wine on my dress and no coat on my shoulders.
It felt like a small victory. It felt like a mistake.
His eyes had stayed on me too long.
I wanted to be unseen. He wanted to see.
I was Lucan, and I had been refused before.
Never by a woman who looked at me like I was the stain.
That night I told myself I had won.
But a prince who wants to see you is a prince who will dig.
Ferris, I hope your secret is buried deep.