A vase broke against the wall, narrowly missing my head. I froze as Lottie screamed and grabbed a porcelain lamp, chucking it at another wall. I’d never seen Lottie like this—she was always so demure. She reached for something else, a crystal votive, and I ran to her, grabbing her arm before she could chuck it.

Heavy breaths wracked her body, tension in every viscera.

“What’s going on?” I hedged.

She jerked her head to the side, furious gaze colliding with mine. Then she shoved me off.

“Why don’t you leave?” she yelled. “You think you’re the only one who knows the unseen sides of him? I was the one who held him when his dad died. It used to only be me. Why are you still here? Are you hoping to seduce him back to you?”

I blinked, stunned.

“N-No! My uncle is here. He’s…dying.”

Her face collapsed. “That’s why you visit him so much.”

Tension drained from her limbs, and in its place sadness filled, sluggish, defeated.

“Why not anywhere else? The kitchens? Work as a maid? Why does it have to be me?”

When you’re out, you’re out. The servants have excommunicated me. I can’t work in the kitchens. I can’t even work cleaning the bathrooms. I mean, if Grayson still cared, maybe he could try to force them…but their revenge would make sure I never saw my uncle.

“I can’t work for the Crownes anymore,” I said simply. “I understand if you don’t want me as your girl. I…” Fuck. “I understand,” I ended lamely.

I don’t know where I’d go.

But I wouldn’t keep doing this to her.

Lottie looked at her perfect, nude manicure. “Of course I don’t want you as my girl. I don’t even want to see your face,” she whispered. “I don’t want to think about you. I wish you didn’t exist.”

When her eyes met mine, they glistened with unshed tears.

Instinctively I grabbed a silk handkerchief embroidered with the Crowne seal, dabbing her eyes so as not to ruin her makeup.

She slapped my hand away, and the handkerchief flew across the room. I got to my knees to fetch it, and she got to the floor with me.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. I just…” She exhaled. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ms. du Lac.”

“Call me Lottie!” she screamed.

We both sat back on our asses. Lottie pulled her face into her knees, sobbing.

“Once my uncle…once he…” I couldn’t even get the words out. “I’ll leave.”