Chapter 6 - The Stain
Clara looked down at herself. On the pristine, crisp fabric of her white apron, a distinct red smudge caught the warm chandelier light—a transfer of Eleanor’s blood from the retaliation. It looked less like a stain and more like a badge of honor, a silent witness to a boundary crossed and defended.
Richard stood up slowly, towering over the maid. His eyes narrowed as he weighed the chaos unfolding before him. "Is that true?" he asked, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Did you take her bracelet?"
Clara didn't flinch. A faint, nearly imperceptible smile touched the corner of her lips—a cold, enigmatic expression that sent an involuntary shiver down Richard’s spine. It was not the smile of a cornered thief. It was the smile of someone who had anticipated every single move on the board.
