FREYA'S POV
Eliza gasped loudly and quickly placed her manicured hand over her chest because she was completely unaccustomed to anyone speaking to her with such blatant disrespect.
The younger girl standing directly behind her shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. She kept her gaze fixed firmly on the marble floor to avoid her mother's sudden anger.
I expected Mason to intervene and defend his wealthy family member from my verbal retaliation. Instead, he simply lifted his left arm to check the time on his expensive silver wristwatch while completely ignoring the intense emotional tension in the room.
"We do not have time to stand in this hallway and argue about personal manners because I have a very strict corporate schedule to maintain today," Mason announced in a flat, authoritative tone that commanded obedience.
"We will relocate to the formal dining room to eat our breakfast right now, and I expect everyone to sit down without causing any further delays."
He turned and walked down the long corridor without waiting to see if we followed.
Eliza glared at me with absolute hatred in her eyes, but she smoothed the wrinkles from her white designer suit and walked after her stepson.
The younger girl offered me a brief, hesitant smile before hurrying to catch up with her mother. I followed the group through the massive house until we reached the formal dining room.
The room was incredibly large. A massive mahogany table occupied the center, surrounded by heavy wooden chairs upholstered in dark red velvet.
Above us, a large crystal chandelier hung from the painted ceiling, illuminating the polished wood.
Mason sat at the head of the table.
Eliza took the seat immediately to his right. The younger girl sat beside her mother.
I pulled out the heavy chair on Mason's left side and sat down directly across from the two women.
Two members of the household staff entered wearing crisp black-and-white uniforms and immediately began serving breakfast.
A tall woman poured steaming black tea from a silver teapot into delicate porcelain cups.
A younger man placed ceramic plates filled with scrambled eggs, thick slices of roasted meat, and fresh fruit in front of each of us.
The room remained completely silent except for the sharp clinking of silver forks against porcelain plates as we began to eat.
I picked up my fork and took a bite of eggs.
That was when I noticed Eliza staring directly at my hands instead of eating her own meal.
"You are holding your utensil completely incorrectly, Freya," Eliza criticized loudly. "Your lack of basic dining etiquette is incredibly embarrassing to witness."
"Mason told me that you work as a waitress in a cheap public diner, so I suppose I cannot expect you to understand how wealthy people consume their food in a civilized environment."
I swallowed my food slowly and placed my fork neatly on the edge of my plate before responding.
"I understand exactly how to eat my food," I replied calmly. "I hold my fork in a way that feels comfortable."
"You do not need to worry about my dining habits because I am perfectly capable of finishing my meal without your supervision."
"You should focus on eating your own breakfast before the meat becomes cold."
Eliza narrowed her eyes and lifted her porcelain teacup with rigid elegance.
"You might pretend to possess a strong personality, but your aggressive attitude cannot hide your severe lack of formal education," she continued.
"Mason requires a wife who can navigate complex social situations and discuss global economics with corporate investors."
"You do not even possess a basic university degree."
"You are completely inadequate for this position."
"I do not need a university degree to validate my intelligence," I countered confidently.
"I manage the daily finances of a busy restaurant and handle difficult social situations every day when I serve disrespectful customers."
"I learned practical life skills through difficult experiences after my parents lost their business."
"Those skills are valuable even if they do not come with an expensive diploma."
"Besides, many wealthy people possess extensive educations but lack basic human empathy."
"I am very proud of my working-class background."
I reached across the table and picked up a slice of toasted bread from the basket.
I realized I needed a knife to spread the butter, but I could not locate the correct utensil.
The younger girl noticed my hesitation.
She quietly slid a small silver butter knife across the polished table until the handle reached my fingertips.
"My name is Dahlia," she said softly.
"I recommend the strawberry jam. Henry makes it from scratch every morning."
"Thank you for your help, Dahlia," I replied sincerely.
I spread the red fruit preserve across my bread and took a large bite while smiling at her.
Eliza noticed the friendly exchange between us.
Her expression hardened immediately.
Since her insults about my education had failed, she decided to escalate her attack.
She placed her linen napkin on the table and folded her hands.
"Since you believe you are so well equipped to handle complex social situations, Freya," she said with a malicious smile, "I arranged a special event."
"I invited the most influential women in the city to attend an afternoon tea party today."
"They are eager to meet the woman who suddenly married the heir to the Kingsley empire."
I immediately understood her plan.
She wanted to surround me with her judgmental friends so they could humiliate me.
Mason wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood from his chair, ignoring the social warfare entirely.
"You may entertain your friends this afternoon, Eliza," he said while buttoning his suit jacket.
"But I will not attend."
"I must go to the corporate office."
"Aiden is attempting to convince the board to vote against my leadership."
"I must present the marriage certificate to secure my inheritance."
"You focus on defeating your cousin," Eliza replied smoothly.
"I will manage your new wife."
Mason nodded once before leaving the dining room with Leon following behind him.
He left the house entirely.
I was now alone with the hostile matriarch and her upcoming social ambush.
Eliza took a slow sip of tea and looked at me with absolute confidence.
"My friends will arrive at three o'clock," she said proudly.
"They will easily see through your pathetic charade."
"You cannot hide your poor background from women who possess genuine class."
I placed my fork on my empty plate.
"I spend fifty hours a week serving difficult customers at a public restaurant," I replied calmly.
"So I promise you that a room full of bored wealthy housewives drinking tea does not intimidate me at all."