Katherine sat back in her chair, the taste of Mais Con Yelo still lingering on her tongue, but her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The soft clink of teacups and the warmth of the room did little to calm her racing heart. She had been feeling out of sorts for days now—her emotions jumbled and tangled in a way she could hardly understand. It wasn't just about Adolfo. It was everything. The homesickness, the confusion, the weight of knowing how this story was supposed to unfold.
Laura's voice broke the silence, soft yet insistent.
"Lady Katherine," she asked, her golden eyes searching Katherine's face, "do you like Count Adolfo?"
Katherine froze. The spoon slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the floor. Her pulse quickened, her thoughts scrambling as she tried to process the question. It wasn't that she hadn't noticed Adolfo's attention—how he always sought her out, how their conversations stretched longer than necessary—but hearing Laura ask it so directly was jarring.
