A quiet, fragile peace had settled over the Thompson estate. In the days following Ashlyn's public punishment, a new order had been established. The household staff, having witnessed the swift, cold execution of one conspirator and the public disgrace of another, moved caution. The name "Lorena" was never spoken, her absence was a silent testament to the new mistress's authority.
It was a bright, clear morning. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth and the last roses of the season. Lily, Marissa's personal maid, walked briskly through the estate gates, a light, happy tune humming on her lips. Her basket, already filled with fragrant medicinal herbs from the market, was heavy on her arm. She was happy. Her mistress was finally in charge, the household was safe, and the terrible, dark plots seemed to be a thing of the past.
