Tears blurred her vision. The one person she taught saw her just told her that her reputation didn't matter to anyone.
Not even him, clearly.
Esteemed Cupbearer… what a fool she was.
Why was she craving a place among people who had already decided for her.
Rory had been right - she couldn't handle the truth.
She didn't matter to the society that once welcomed her. And she was pushing away those that actually cared for her.
"I have to talk to Rory."
In her haste, she bumped into
Aldrich.
He was heading towards his carriage, his guards behind him.
The guards gathered around him, pulling their swords out of their sheathes.
Claire blinked, her throat working.
"Put your weapons away. She comes in peace." He said to them.
A sigh of relief escaped her before she could stifle it.
"They're very… protective."
She commented.
"They are indeed." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "It's even worse now my father is dead - I'm the heir to Cavenholm."
She averted her gaze.
