Surviving the thinly veiled insults of nobles from other regions had never been particularly difficult for Alice.
"Such matters should naturally be handled by those below us."
Words like that barely scratched her. She had heard far worse since childhood.
Even the incident with the glove—the quiet, thoughtful act of returning it to its owner—had been handled cleanly. If trouble truly arose, there was little to fear as long as Hans stood beside her… and Julies as well.
No, the real problem lay elsewhere.
"Again…?" she muttered under her breath.
"This uncomfortable feeling."
It wasn't anger.
Nor jealousy—at least, not something she was willing to name.
It was an indescribable unease, a faint but persistent prick at her heart, like a thorn she couldn't pull out.
Alice knew the cause all too well.
Her gaze drifted back toward the hall she had just left.
