"What are you looking at?"
Lucille Everard turned to face Beatrice Byrd. "What are you staring at me for?"
Beatrice sighed. "I'm just bored. I never planned to keep you company this long. Staring at the royal palace ceiling day after day is dull."
If things were normal, she could chat with Lina Riley, but Lucille had been merciful enough to let that silly girl go home for two days. Without Lina's presence, these days felt tedious again.
Lucille didn't care to listen to Beatrice's sighing. Before her lay a stack of old books, each well-thumbed. She picked one up, skimming through its unimpressive contents. Of course, she hadn't spared even Beatrice's private collection—she confiscated it all.
Beatrice looked resentfully at her beloved books. She couldn't resist pleading, "I don't serve in the palace, anyway. It's fine if you confiscate theirs, but can I have mine back?"