Chapter 2

When I returned to Ashbourne House, Maggie could hardly hide her satisfaction. "My lady, had you seen her face after you left—it turned the color of sour ale."

I only smiled. In my last life, Maggie had often warned me. She said Clara was crooked and that I ought to keep my distance.

But I had been blinded by what I thought was hometown sisterly loyalty and thought Maggie was just being paranoid. I even scolded her for it.

Yet when I lay forgotten and disgraced, it was Maggie—only Maggie—who slipped me two hard rolls in secret.

This time, I would see her safe no matter what.

*****

It took but a few days for the inevitable to unfold.

Clara's maid, Jenny, having gone without coin for several days, stole one of Clara's gold hairpins to sell in the lower market. When she was caught, she threw herself down, her cries pleading for pardon. And Clara came to me once more.

"Grace, Jenny is still young. She was foolish, nothing more." Clara knit her lovely brows, her face the picture of reluctant mercy. "If this matter becomes known, her life will be ruined. Could we let it rest?"

In my last life, I could never bear that saintly tone of hers. I had immediately ordered Jenny dragged away, given twenty lashes, and dismissed from service—sold into labor beyond the court walls.

But afterward, Clara had sighed and said, "Grace, was that not too harsh? Why cut off her only means of living?"

I had nearly choked on my fury. She played the benevolent lady. I bore the blame. The dirty work was mine. The praise and spotless name were hers. Very well. In this life, I would grant her exactly what she asked for.

I took Clara's hand, smiling in agreement. "You speak truly, Clara. You are far too kind. We should not punish her—we should comfort her instead."

I turned to Jenny, who was still on the floor, and said gently, "Jenny, rise. Your lady has already forgiven you."

Both Jenny and Clara froze, stunned.

I slipped a well-crafted gold bracelet from my wrist and pressed it into Jenny's hands. "Take this as a gift. Sell it if you must, and send the coin to your family. If ever your purse runs bare again, speak to your lady. Do not resort to such desperate acts again."

Jenny clutched the bracelet, her eyes wide with disbelief and delight, bowing again and again. "Thank you, Lady Grace. Thank you, Lady Clara."

Clara's face was a study in astonishment. She wanted to scold, to assert herself—but found no words. After all, forgiveness had been her suggestion.

Once Jenny was soothed, I turned back to Clara. "Clara, trouble like this in your chambers comes from your gentleness. Your servants take liberties because you are too indulgent. If word of this spreads, they will say you cannot command your household, and it will damage your authority.

"My counsel is to summon Matron Agnes. Let her set things right and remind the servants of their duty."

Clara's face went pale all of a sudden. "No, that will not be necessary..."

I cut her off, raising my voice. "Maggie!"

Maggie, reading my meaning, stepped inside promptly. "My lady, your command?"

"Summon Matron Agnes at once. Tell her there has been disorder in Lady Clara's chambers, and that we require her guidance to restore order," I instructed.

Matron Agnes was a veteran of the palace. She was stern, unwavering, and revered above all for her strict adherence to rules. In my previous life, I had once incurred her wrath and been set to scrub the floors of the great hall for four hours.

With her called, Jenny's punishment would be unavoidable—and her transgression would no longer be mere theft. It would now be counted as "disturbing the mistress and breaking the household rules."

Clara tried to intervene, but I stopped her with a look. I silently mouthed the words. "Clara, this is for your own good."

She swayed on her feet, nearly losing her balance.

It wasn't long before Matron Agnes arrived, accompanied by two junior attendants.

I recounted the story with a touch of embellishment, highlighting Clara's "compassion" and "consideration" toward her servants.

Matron Agnes listened, her expression turning grim. Her sharp gaze swept over Clara and the trembling Jenny. "Lady Clara, a lenient heart is the gravest sin in this household. If you cannot govern your own servants, how do you expect to serve His Majesty faithfully?"

Clara's head sank. Her face flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Matron Agnes turned to Jenny and sneered, "You insolent wretch! Daring to soil your hands and deceive your mistress. Guards, seize her! Fifty lashes to the mouth, then deliver her to the Justice Bureau to await judgment."

Jenny was scared out of her wits. She clutched Clara's skirts, pleading desperately, "My lady, save me. Please!"

Clara, barely saving herself, could do nothing. She dared not intervene.

In the end, Jenny was dragged away, gagged and sobbing.

Clara, meanwhile, was punished for "failure to command her household." She was confined to her chambers for three days, required to write and meditate on the duties of a lady of the court.

I stood aside, watching the color drain from her face, my heart cold and unmoved.

Clara, you loved playing the saint, did you not? Very well. I would show you what became of a saint in this palace.