Chapter 12
"Oh?" Lady Marigold mused softly, one elegant brow arching upward. "And here I believed nobody listened closely enough to remember my insults."
A faint smile touched Sigrid's lips as she began wandering through the workshop. Her long, slender finger drifted across a wooden mannequin before brushing lightly over scattered design sketches resting upon a nearby table. Needles, ribbons, unfinished bodices, and rolls of imported fabrics occupied nearly every surface, yet she moved through the organized chaos with surprising familiarity, as though she had stepped into a place she already understood.
"How could I not remember?" Sigrid replied. "You spoke with such defiance and arrogance that evening. You insulted half the ballroom without caring who heard you."
