The old maid's smile remained, though it was colder now, almost calculating.
She stepped closer to Eiravyne, her eyes narrowing as she looked her over.
"You really think you're wanted here, don't you, my lady?" she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think the celebrations, the smiles, the attention… could mean anything? How naive."
Eiravyne felt her stomach twist, the words cutting deeper than she could have imagined.
She looked away, trying to steady herself, but the maid wasn't done.
"Urag," she continued, her voice low and cold, "he's troubled, you know. All this... all this fuss… all this attention he showers you with …he hates it ."
The maid's expression darkened as she continued.
"He's never wanted you here, not truly."
More tears welled in Eiravyne's eyes, but she forced herself to blink them away.
The maid took another step forward, her voice softening in a way that made it all the more cruel.
