The two women rose to their feet as the queen entered the garden, her presence as commanding as Jean had described.
Her gown flowed with an ethereal shimmer, and her expression, though calm, was unreadable. Salviana straightened instinctively, her heart quickening as she dipped into a respectful curtsy.
"Lady Salviana," the queen greeted, her tone warm but measured. "Welcome to my garden."
"Your Majesty," Salviana replied, her voice steady despite her nerves. "Thank you for having me."
The queen's gaze flicked to Jean, who stood dutifully at Salviana's side. A faint smile touched her lips. "Your lady-in-waiting is diligent, I see. But for now, I would like to speak with you alone, Lady Salviana."
Jean hesitated, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She turned to Salviana, seeking silent confirmation. Salviana nodded subtly, though the weight of the queen's request settled uneasily on her shoulders.