CHAPTER 108: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND EIGHT

The mid-morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the East Wing guest chambers. The room was luxurious, filled with expensive furniture and fresh flowers, but to the woman staying there, it felt like a cage.

Senna sat by the small, round table near the window. She was dressed in a simple, pale gown, her face free of makeup, maintaining the image of a recovering, fragile victim. But her posture was rigid, her fingers drumming a silent, impatient rhythm on the arm of her chair.

There was a knock at the door. Before Senna could even compose her face, the door opened.

It was Ashlyn.

The Second Lady of the Thompson estate walked in. She looked impeccable. Her dress was a high-collared, dark green silk that covered her neck and arms completely, hiding the bruises and welts from the last night’s endeavors with Carlos. Her hair was pinned up perfectly, but her face was pale, and there were dark, heavy shadows under her eyes that no amount of powder could hide. She moved stiffly, every step seemingly calculated to avoid pain.

Senna did not stand up. She simply watched Ashlyn enter, her expression shifting instantly from boredom to a soft, welcoming smile.

"Second Lady," Senna said, her voice gentle. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Ashlyn didn’t return the smile. She walked to the table and sat down opposite Senna, wincing slightly as her back touched the chair. She looked around the room, her gaze critical.

"I heard," Ashlyn began, her voice cool and conversational, "that Lady Senna has been given a timeframe to leave."

Senna’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes tightened just a fraction. It was a sore spot. Marissa had publicly offered her shelter, only for Derek to privately set a deadline for her departure.

Ashlyn paused. She reached for the teapot on the table and poured herself a cup, her movements slow. She took a sip, her eyes watching Senna over the rim of the cup.

"If you don’t mind," Ashlyn continued, placing the cup down with a soft clink, "I know a reputable inn in the city. It is clean, quiet, and affordable. You can stay there while your home is being rebuilt. I can make the arrangements for you today."

It was a polite insult. Ashlyn was essentially offering to help pack her bags.

Senna laughed softly, a sound like wind chimes. She shook her head, looking down at her hands modestly. "You are too kind, Lady Ashlyn. Truly. Such generosity is beyond my worth. I would not want to impose on you."

"It is no imposition," Ashlyn said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "The Grand Duchess has been so busy lately. With the accounts, the servants, and... managing the ’Grand Duke’. She simply can’t attend to you as a proper hostess should."

Ashlyn leaned forward slightly, ignoring the pull of the healing lash marks on her back. "As her sister, I must share her burden. I must ensure her guests are... moved on... to appropriate places. Please, forgive us for any lack of hospitality."

Senna saw the game immediately. Ashlyn was trying to assert dominance, trying to act like she had power in the house. Senna reached for the pitcher of water and poured herself a glass, her movements fluid and graceful.

"The Grand Duchess is a kind and benevolent woman," Senna said, her voice sounding full of sincere admiration. She looked Ashlyn in the eye. "She saved my life. She welcomed me into her home when I had nowhere to go. I could never resent her. Instead, I only feel deep gratitude."

Ashlyn watched her. She saw the innocent, wide eyes. She heard the sweet, trembling voice. And she felt a wave of cold, bitter disgust.

Your pitiful act won’t fool me, Ashlyn thought, her hand tightening around her teacup. I know you. I know what you are.

In her past life, Senna had not been this quiet mouse. She had been a viper. When Ashlyn was the Grand Duchess, Senna had flaunted Derek’s favor openly. She had staged accidents. She had whispered poison into Derek’s ear until Ashlyn had to give up on Derek and go on series of escapades. Senna had been formidable, ruthless, and relentless.

Why aren’t you putting the same energy for Marissa? Ashlyn wondered, frustration bubbling in her chest. Why are you letting her win? Why are you hiding here?

Ashlyn decided to drop the polite facade. She took another sip of her tea, then set it down firmly.

"You schemed to enter this house," Ashlyn stated, her voice dropping the sweetness and becoming flat and hard. "You burned your own house. You staged a scene at the gate. Surely, you want status. You want the Grand Duke."

Senna’s expression changed. The gratitude vanished, replaced by a look of shocked innocence. She pressed a hand to her chest. "What are you implying, Lady Ashlyn? I seek no status. I am just a poor woman who lost her home. Please, don’t stir trouble needlessly."

"I only meant well for you," Ashlyn replied, leaning back in her chair, her gaze intense. "I am just stating facts. Whether your tears are sincere or false, it does not matter. The reality is this: with the Grand Duchess here, you will never succeed."

She pointed a finger at Senna. "Marissa is not like other women. She is calculating. She is cold. And she has the Grand Duke’s ear. You cannot win against my sister alone."

Ashlyn paused, letting the words hang in the air. Then she delivered her offer.

"Unless," Ashlyn whispered, "we work together."

Senna looked at her and saw desperation.

She let out a small, dismissive smile. She picked up her glass of water and took a slow sip, her eyes mocking.

"I have heard of your feud with your sister," Senna said calmly. "Everyone has. You tried to frame her, and you failed. You were punished."

She placed the glass down. "I don’t want to get involved in your messy family drama. I have my own path. Don’t use me in your schemes, Lady Ashlyn. I am not Nora. I am not Lorena. I will not be a pawn for you to sacrifice."

She stood up, a clear gesture of dismissal. She gestured gracefully to the door.

"Please," Senna said, her voice cool. "Take your leave. I need to rest. My handmaiden will be back soon from inn hunting. I need all the strength i can get."

Ashlyn sat there for a moment. The rejection was stinging. She felt the familiar heat of humiliation rising in her cheeks. Senna thought she was weak. Senna thought she was useless.

Ashlyn stood up slowly. Her back screamed in protest, a sharp, burning pain that nearly made her gasp, but she kept her face impassive. She forced her smile to remain, though it tightened at the corners.

"Very well," Ashlyn said. "I apologize for disturbing you."

She turned and walked towards the heavy oak door. Her steps were slow, measured. She counted them in her head. One. Two. Three.

She reached for the brass handle. She turned it. The latch clicked.

She thinks she can do it alone, Ashlyn thought. But she doesn’t know Marissa like I do. She doesn’t know that Marissa plays dirty and is always one step ahead.

Ashlyn pulled the door open. She was halfway out into the hallway.

"Wait!"

The voice came from behind her.

Ashlyn paused. She didn’t turn around immediately. A small, satisfied smirk touched her lips, invisible to the room. She waited a bit, then slowly turned back.

Senna was standing by the table, her hand resting on the back of the chair. The mask of innocence was gone. Her face was serious, calculating. She was looking at Ashlyn not with disdain, but with curiosity.

"You are just the Second Lady of the house," Senna said, her voice low. "You have no authority. You have no money. Your husband is a bastard son."

Senna took a step closer, her amber eyes narrowing.

"How," she asked, her voice a whisper that carried across the room, "do you intend to help me?"

Ashlyn looked at her and smiled.