"Wait, my lady!" Lyra called.
Ashelia was already halfway through the doors of her chambers when her maid suddenly called. She turned her attention toward her, only to see her hurrying over with a small cloth and rosy paint in hand.
"Lyra…?!"
Not letting her get a word out, Lyra quickly started applying rouge to her milky white cheeks.
Ashelia tried to raise her hand in protest. "I don't need this!"
"Hush," Lyra ordered, her hand continuing its gentle work. "You will need it, my lady. Trust me."
Ashelia looked doubtful as she allowed her maid to continue. "Why?"
Lyra's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Because the Archduke is a very handsome man."
Ashelia quickly stepped back, a visible red creeping to her cheeks, despite the blush her maid had applied. "I know that!" she exclaimed, a little flustered. "And I already have a fiancé."
"Oh, trust me, my lady," her maid responded. "The ladies all forget about their fiances whenever they see the Archduke's face."
