Why Scheme When I Can Sleep?

Chapter 3

Elowyn, the Heroine (And the Problem)

In which the sweet heroine begins to sour, and Virelle continues to ruin everything by doing nothing at all.

Miss Elowyn Clare had been raised on stories.

Stories where the kind-hearted girl won the prince. Where nobility was less about blood and more about bearing. Where if you were good, and gracious, and pure of intention, the world would tilt in your favor.

She smiled beautifully. She curtsied perfectly. She cried exactly once every third conversation, in a way that made people want to protect her.

And until recently, it had been working.

The duchess had taken a personal interest in her. The ball invitations came in daily. And even Duke Lorian Thorne, terrifying as he was, had once lingered near her long enough to accept a cup of tea.

It wasn't love yet. But it was definitely act one.

Then Lady Virelle D'Argent arrived.

Or rather — slouched, blinked, and then dozed through the entire act.

At first, Elowyn had tried to understand it. She'd sent a polite letter. It had been returned with no reply, and a biscuit tucked inside the envelope. Crushed.

She'd tried complimenting Virelle's gown. Virelle had stared at her blankly, then asked if she was lost.

She'd even asked Lorian, gently, whether he knew her.

"She doesn't lie," he'd said.

Which wasn't helpful.

Elowyn didn't understand how a girl like that could gain so much attention by being... tired. The rest of them were practically bleeding charm and curated smiles.

And Virelle just existed.

Quietly. Indifferently. Powerfully.

It was ruining everything.

"I think she might be possessed," said Lady Marabelle, wringing her lace gloves.

"No," said Elowyn, biting delicately into a candied violet, "she's just very good at appearing unbothered."

They were seated in the sunroom of House Wyncrest, surrounded by glass, greenery, and gossip. It was the kind of room where reputations went to wilt.

"She insulted your embroidery club by accident."

"She insulted me by accident."

"She told your cousin his soul had the personality of dry toast."

"He thanked her for the honesty," Elowyn snapped, then composed herself. "He said it was the first genuine comment he'd heard all week."

There was a long silence. Then Marabelle asked carefully, "Do you think she's trying to take the duke?"

"No," said Elowyn. "I think she's not even trying. That's the problem."

Three days later, Elowyn found herself attending a card game hosted by Viscount Ellbridge — an event she'd normally dominate with innocent cleverness and soft laughter.

Virelle was there.

She was seated at the corner of the card table, not playing. She was reading a book — upside down. Whether by mistake or by choice was unclear.

Elowyn watched as Lord Delling tried to make conversation. Virelle blinked at him, yawned, and said, "Are you always this loud, or is it a medical condition?"

He left in visible confusion and mild admiration.

Then Lorian arrived.

He said nothing to Virelle. Just took the seat beside her.

Virelle tilted her head slightly toward him — not quite a greeting. Not quite anything. He remained beside her like a statue with opinions.

They didn't speak.

They didn't flirt.

They just... coexisted.

Elowyn wanted to scream.

Instead, she smiled and reshuffled the cards.

That evening, back in her chamber, Elowyn paced the length of her rug.

"She's not doing anything," she told the mirror. "She's not cruel. She's not even present. But somehow, she's in the center of everything."

The mirror, unhelpfully, reflected her growing panic.

"Everyone loves her because she doesn't want anything. I've spent years wanting exactly the right things, in the right way."

She pressed a hand to her chest, tried a soft sigh. Nothing about it felt noble. Just tired.

She tried again.

Lighter this time.

And smiled.

Elsewhere, across the city, Virelle stared at a half-melted candle.

Briony poured her tea.

"You know," the maid said, "people think you're manipulating the entire season."

Virelle took a long sip. "I barely remember what day it is."

Briony nodded. "That's the scariest part."