I woke up the next morning after a few hours of sleep. The way Alora had been acting stayed at the front of my mind. Several times I woke up expecting to see her standing near the bed, holding a book, and grinning at me. Thankfully, when I woke up the final time, she was nowhere to be seen.

What am I going to do about her? I yawned, stretching. The maids aren’t here today. I pushed off the bed, remembering the words Matilda had spoken yesterday. Was she going somewhere?

A knock sounded on the door, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Who is it?” I asked, taking a step forward.

“It’s Martin, my lady,” he cleared his throat. “Lord Justin is requesting breakfast with you.”

“I thought he said he was going to be busy.” I mumbled, walking to the wardrobe.

“Has your maid come to dress you yet? If not, I can summon her.”

“No.” I said quickly, pulling out a simple mint colored dress. “I’ll be done in a moment. If you don’t mind waiting.”

“Take your time, Lady Kyla.” Martin said, a smile in his voice.

I slipped out of my clothes, and pulled the dress on quickly. Why is Martin normal when the rest of the staff…isn’t? I wondered, running the brush through my hair. Once I was done, I slid on a pair of slippers and crossed to the door – opening it.

Martin offered a small smile before bowing. “Please follow me.”

I fell into step behind him, keeping my eyes focused ahead. Occasionally, I found myself searching for Alora, but each time I turned my head back. I’ll have to look into it later. Right now, I need to mentally prepare myself to be in the same room as Justin.

After ten minutes of walking, Martin stopped before a door, pulled it open, and motioned me inside. “Enjoy your meal, my lady.”

“Thank you.” I stepped inside and considered turning around a split second later.

The room was large and meticulously decorated. A chandelier, full of glittering gemstones, illuminated the entire room. The beauty aside, Justin’s very presence made my stomach churn. He sat at the head of the table, face impassive. He didn’t greet me or speak – instead he motioned toward the seat on his left.

Should I be sitting at the opposite end of him? Nonetheless, I walked across the room, claiming the seat beside him. Justin raised a glass to his lip as I scooted the chair in, taking a long gulp.

Servers appeared moments later, setting a large spread of meat, potatoes, and bread before us.

Justin didn’t speak until they had completely left the room. “I hear your lessons with my mother are not going as well as they could be.” He commented, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “

“I’ve only just started them.” I said slowly, watching him stab his fork into a large chunk of meat.

“The Blaine household does not make excuses for their behavior,” he shot me a pointed look, plopping the meat on his plate. “You must do better. I don’t approve of you dragging your feet and wasting my mothers precious time.”

Prick. I thought, suppressing an eye roll. Did he really call me in here just to scold me for his mother being insane?

“I’m not part of your household.” The words fell out before I could stop them. He turned his beady gaze on my face – lips pulling into a deep frown. “Not yet anyway.”

“You are living under my roof.” He lifted a knife, pointing it at me before he began to cut his food. “You will improve. If you don’t, well,” He chuckled. “You won’t enjoy the outcome.”

I stiffened, hands balling into a fist. Is he threatening to kill me or threatening to punish me? The urge to punch him across the face was so strong, my hand twitched. I wound my fingers around my right wrist, summoning all the willpower I could muster. I swear I’m going to punch him at least once before I get out of his grip.

“Regardless, I know you can follow instructions. Your father has made that clear to me.” He chuckled again, taking a large bite of his food.

I glanced away from him, eyeballing the plates before me. I had been hungry on the walk to the dining room, but listening to him had my appetite disappearing.

“Mother will be giving me progress reports weekly from now on. I expect to see better results.” He swallowed, reaching for his cup. “I don’t have the time to spare to lecture you any further. I have places I need to be and meetings I must attend soon.”

Then why did you even bother summoning me? I let out a small breath. For someone so busy he sure jumps when mother dearest is involved.

“The other reason I summoned you is to inform you of a tea party happening this afternoon.”

“A tea party?” I looked over at him, blinking a few times. What tea party? No one had told me one was coming up.

“Yes.” He took a few gulps of his drink, gazing at me over the rim. “Lady Lotasa is holding a tea party at the palace today at one o’clock. Her husband is one of my business partners.” He set his glass down, forking more food into his mouth. “A few other women will be there that are potential partner material. Lady Jazmin Ingra and Lady Olive Katchen. Both their husbands are in talks with me today, and as you know, women gossip like they breathe.”

I snorted, and coughed, covering it up quickly. He talks as much as four women and he thinks he has the right to ridicule them?

He glanced over, eyes flashing for a brief second before he continued. “When you attend today, be sure to present yourself as a polished and poised woman. Then when they return home to their husbands they’ll speak of you in good light.”

I highly doubted that, but I remained silent. Lady Ingra and Lady Katchen were both close friends with Paulita in the novel later on. One was oddly obsessed with the heroine, and the other whispered about Paulita’s accomplishments in society. Neither of them were going to paint me as an upstanding person.

Justin set his fork down, after shoving another mouthful in. He stood up abruptly and crossed the room. “Oh,” He turned his head, stopping at the door. “I almost forgot. Your closet has been officially cleaned and has your new items that Madam Poshlyn’s people dropped off this morning. Do make sure to wear something flattering.”

Justin turned back around and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Wear something flattering.” I mocked him, stabbing my fork into a steam potato. If he’s so obsessed with making connections, then he should go himself.

I moved the fork toward my lips, blowing on it. I have no choice, do I?

If I didn’t go to the tea party, there would be hell to pay. A faint memory – one from the novel – flickered through my mind. I knew exactly what was going to happen when I arrived. The tea party may have sounded simplistic and straight forward, but it was going to be frustrating.

Paulita, who didn’t have an invitation, was going to show up not long after I arrived. It was the official start of a massive percentage of high society hating me. Before, I had been a bastard to mock. After this tea party, Kyla had been labeled a short tempered bully.

I walked to the door, running my hands down my face.

I would change my image and maybe then the plot would stop tugging me around like a dog on a leash.

Despite my hopes – the plot, as always, had different plans in mind.