“How dare you!” the Empress screamed, though her anger seemed more performative than genuine. She clutched her robes tightly as Danielle, her younger sister, tried to calm her. 

“Sister, you’re exhausting yourself. Don’t get so worked up,” Danielle sighed, his tone placating. 

Isolde paused at the scene, her gaze steady despite the tension. She bowed gracefully. “Your Highness, I apologize for my tardiness.”   

The Empress turned, forcing a tired smile. “Ah, Isolde. You’ve arrived just in time.” 

She slumped into a chair, her face a mask of weariness. “I can’t trust anyone in this palace anymore. Too many traitors in my midst,” she said dramatically, casting a sharp glance at the trembling maids. “That’s why I’ve decided to entrust you with a most critical responsibility.” 

Isolde straightened, her expression calm though inwardly cautious. “Your Highness?” 

The Empress leaned forward, grasping Isolde’s hand with faux sincerity. “From this moment on, you are responsible for everything I consume. Food, drink—whatever it is, it will pass through your hands first. Come, serve me tea now.” 

Isolde blinked, momentarily taken aback. Was this a test? A trap? Or a calculated move to assert dominance? 

Danielle frowned, his concern barely masked. “Sister, how can you ask Lady Isolde to serve you? What if the Emperor hears of this?” 

The Empress waved off her brother's concerns, her voice smooth and confident. “The Emperor already knows and agrees. He trusts the Duke of Sable’s daughter implicitly as a loyal subject of the crown.” 

“I am honored,” Isolde replied, bowing her head to conceal her unease. Gently withdrawing her hand from the Empress’s grasp, she moved toward the tea tray, inspecting the leaves carefully. 

“Your Highness, these tea leaves…”  Isolde frowns for a second.

“Oh, don’t fret,” the Empress interrupted. “They’re from my family estate, handpicked for their health benefits. Danielle brought them himself.” 

Isolde’s sharp eyes flickered to Danielle, who nodded stiffly. Sensing no immediate danger but still wary, Isolde prepared the tea with careful precision and served it without further comment.  

As the Empress sipped, her gaze lingered on Isolde, calculating. “Perfect, as expected,” she said with a satisfied smile. 

Moments later, an attendant arrived, bowing low. “Lady Isolde, the royal designer and jeweler await you with His Majesty.” 

“I will attend to them immediately,” Isolde replied, standing. 

“Wait,” the Empress said, rising from her seat. “I will accompany you.” 

Isolde hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “Your Highness?” 

The Empress smiled, her tone saccharine. “Oh, don’t be like that. How can a man advise you on fashion and jewelry? I’m far better suited to help you. Men rarely understand such things.” 

Isolde’s lips curved into a faint, polite smile. “Of course, Your Highness. I would be grateful for your guidance.” 

Her mind, however, was already racing. ‘What game are you playing now, Empress?’ 

As they departed for the royal designer’s quarters, Isolde resolved to tread carefully. The Empress’s sudden involvement in her affairs wasn’t just an act of kindness—it was a power play, and Isolde knew better than to trust her motives. 

To be continued....