Chapter 83 – Daphne POV
I'm not in the right state of mind to even paint today.
I sigh.
And set the brush down gently beside the palette, my gaze lingering on the half-finished landscape stretched across the canvas.
It's beautiful, I think. Soft pastels, a blur of forest and stream in the glow of imagined sunlight.
But it feels hollow.
Like I'm trying to paint someone else's memory instead of my own.
"Avoiding me?"
A voice like silk-wrapped steel.
I don't turn. I don't need to.
Only one person in this castle speaks like the world answers to her. Like power is her native tongue.
The Duchess.
"I dare not, Your Grace," I say smoothly, picking up my brush again, feigning calm, feigning distance, feigning everything I no longer feel.
I hear her step closer, soft heels on stone. She stops just behind me, her presence folding into the room like a second breath.
"This place looks beautiful," she says quietly.
"Your hometown?"
I glance at the canvas.
