Chapter 72 – Daphne POV
I have a stalker.
A bad one.
Not the creepy-breathing, hiding-in-your-wardrobe kind.
No, this one's… elegant.
…And cute.
And clumsy.
The Duchess.
Duchess Evelyne Callum.
My not-wife-but-sure-feels-like-it-sometimes.
I've seen her.
I think everyone in this castle has seen her.
But since she's—you know—the duchess, no one's saying a word.
She lurks.
On balconies.
In garden paths.
Behind columns.
Once, I caught her pretending to look at a bush. A very dead bush. For ten full minutes.
She thinks she's subtle.
She's not.
It's even funnier because she wears those enormous gowns—layers of silk and structure and dignity. She's basically a mobile tent made of lace.
And yet, there she is now.
I head toward the stream, basket of cloths in hand, and in the distance—there she is.
Blonde hair coiled like spun gold.
Blue eyes trying desperately to not make eye contact.
