There was absolutely no cream. There was no luxurious alchemical formula, no everyouth ointment, no exclusive samples tucked neatly inside our carriage.
I had entirely manufactured the entire cosmetic miracle out of thin air in a microsecond of absolute panic just to stop Neisa from blabbering about a treasonous imperial antidote!
The silence stretched, turning incredibly heavy and suffocating as the other debutantes noticed our sudden stillness. Lady Clara's smug smirk began to creep right back onto her pale face, as she realized she had just caught the infamous Irene Solyne in a massive, high-stakes bluff.
"What's the matter, Lady Irene?" Clara snickered, her voice dropping into a mocking lilt.
"Did you leave this revolutionary miracle back at your estate? Or perhaps... it hasn't even been brewed yet?"
