"Did you hear? New concubine arrives," a girl whispered behind the pear pavilion.
Katelyn froze mid-step. The courtyard noise narrowed to the two girls' voices.
"She has Clarissa's skin and a silk sash," the first maid said. "The Prince will laugh and pick again."
"Everyone loves polished," the second said. "This one has court polish written all over her."
Katelyn heard the exact words the court imagined about her and the sound split something inside her.
"This is about me," she said.
Silence snapped. The two maids stared as if someone had thrown cold water on them.
"You—" the taller maid began, voice small.
Katelyn walked closer. Her heels left neat prints on the courtyard stone. Jean stood behind her, hands folded, watching without moving.
"You whisper my name like it belongs on a backyard bench," Katelyn said. "You treat it like gossip, not like a man took it and left it on the floor."
The taller maid flushed. "We only— we were saying the Prince will take another."
"He will take what pleases him," Katelyn said. "That doesn't erase what he chose before."
The shorter maid tried to smile and failed. "Of course not. We... we all respect—"
"You respect what you don't understand," Katelyn snapped. "You pretend to see everything, but you don't see a single thing."
Jean's presence was quiet proof. The old nanny had been Katelyn's shadow for years, a hand at the proper moment. Jean stepped forward now
