Just as Beatrice was about to step ahead with Roseria, another voice rang through the air, "Why the rush? Am I invisible?".
Beatrice's steps froze in the middle of the walk. She knew that voice.
Turning her head, she looked at another person stepping out from the royal carriage.
Layla Valcour.
Her deep violet gown flowed elegantly as she stepped down, her arms crossed with a smirk on her lips. Her sharp eyes scanned Beatrice's reaction, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Did you forget about me already, Madam Beatrice?" Layla teased her innocently, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we were on better terms than that."
"Lady Layla," Beatrice bowed slightly; she stutured herself. "I... of course not. I was only..."
Layla waved a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Relax, Madam Beatrice; I'm only teasing." Then, turning to Roseria, she took the princess's hand. "And you, little flower, nearly ran inside without me."
