I could feel their eyes on me—dozens of them, tracking my every movement across the ballroom like hunters following wounded prey. Without my mask, I felt stripped bare, vulnerable in a way that made my skin prickle with discomfort.
"Stand tall, Isabella," Evangeline whispered beside me, her hand giving mine a reassuring squeeze. "They're staring because they're jealous, not because they're judging."
"Are you certain about that?" I murmured back, trying to maintain my composure as another group of ladies turned to watch us pass. "I feel like an exotic creature in a menagerie."
Evangeline chuckled softly. "That's exactly what you are to them. The mysterious Duchess who finally revealed her face—and disappointed all the gossips by being beautiful instead of monstrous."
