Chapter 207: The Bland Tearoom Date
Lyria's POV
The maids did not reply.
They simply stood frozen. Their silence was not agreement. It was not submission. It was, I suspected, the silence of people who had not yet decided how to respond and probably never would.
I did not wait for them to decide, though. I sat back down.
The chair was still warm from where I had been sitting moments before. I arranged my skirts carefully, smoothed one hand over the pale blue fabric, and looked up at them.
"Finish the m-makeup," I said, and they hurried.
Diana reached for the small pots and brushes with an eagerness that bordered on frantic. Sally positioned herself at my side, her hands only slightly unsteady as she tilted my chin toward the light. Theresa retrieved a folded cloth and stood ready to blot or powder or whatever else was required.
They worked quickly.
