Following their actions in The Golden Girl, Marguerite and Céleste must deal with the repercussions of their recent behaviors.
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Marguerite has landed herself in quite the shameful predicament, but she needs to make priorities; to somehow mainta...
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It took a lot of arguing and convincing for Marguerite to permit Céleste to leave the room after their debating and theorizing.
With Edouard potentially accused of murder, Romain on the trail of the alleged murderer's family with unknown intentions, and Clémentine becoming more "all-seeing" than expected, the corridors of Torrinni Castle weren't safe.
So many puzzle pieces added to the table, but Céleste had no clue where they belonged. Or how to interpret the actions of each player in the game.
When she explained to Marguerite her secret mission for Sébastien—befriend Charlotte—the Duchess initially disapproved. "Charlotte is a brown-nosing, gossip-spreading viper, remember?" she'd said, cursing Sébastien for suggesting such a thing.
But eventually, she saw the value in what Céleste might find out. She understood how Jules confided in Charlotte, but no one had a clue what her angle was. So they agreed it was best to keep an eye on Miss Geitz, more so since she appeared to be aware of Romain's fake interests. And both wondered if she had more information on his abrupt decision to depart.
"Question her, indirectly. Pretend to ask about outfits for the Ball, and sneak in some pondering on Romain's sudden departure," Marguerite had offered, before Céleste slipped out. "She is the queen of gossip, no? She will have knowledge we do not."
Waddling up to Charlotte's room, Céleste came close to changing her mind; but it was too late. The moment she paused before the door, it creaked open, revealing Charlotte's scowl and her squared shoulders.
"Who would—" She blinked, her gaze landing on Céleste, her tension relaxing. "Oh, it is you again. Always popping up when I do not anticipate it." She smiled, but Céleste could tell it was not heartfelt. "I worried it was one of those idiots they dare call chambermaids. Come in."
Unsure what to reply, Céleste followed Charlotte inside. A fruity scent permeated the air—one that wasn't Charlotte's.
As Céleste wandered farther into the space, she spotted Julia seated on the bed, a steaming cup in her hands.
Overcome with a nervous jitter, Céleste hiccuped. "I am sorry, I did not mean to intrude—"
Does she know why Romain is leaving?
Julia let out the most pained and exaggerated sigh Céleste had ever heard. "It is fine," she moaned, taking a sip of her beverage.
"You can help me console her," said Charlotte, sounding more annoyed than sympathetic. "The poor thing," she spoke near Céleste's ear, keeping her voice low, "King Romain's imminent departure... unexpected."
Another ridiculous moan escaped Julia's lips. "Romain!"
Céleste prayed for her cheeks to not redden. "He is leaving, yes, I heard." She hated how innocent and sugary sweet her tone had become, but she had to be fake—to be level with Charlotte.
