Chapter 12.16

Little did Carissa know, Jeanette would continue her playful interaction throughout the performance. She giggled and nudged Carissa, creating the impression of close familiarity.

Their behavior attracted the attention of other concubines, who leaned in to watch curiously. Carissa, however, only occasionally acknowledged Jeanette with a polite smile or nod. Others misinterpreted this as intimacy.

Afterward, Meredith and Kiera approached Carissa, their expressions puzzled. "You and Jeanette know each other?" they asked.

Carissa shook her head. "We've never met."

"Then why did you seem so familiar?" Kiera pressed.

Meredith, sensing something amiss, frowned. "Avoid her. Her intentions aren't sincere."

Carissa already suspected as much. Leaving during the performance, however, would have been rude and disruptive. While she didn't consider Jeanette foolish, she certainly wasn't clever.

The performance's end brought a brief sense of relief, quickly replaced by the cold gazes of Sylvia, Penelope, and the other concubines. Their silence spoke volumes—their animosity was unmistakable.

Although Carissa rarely involved herself in harem intrigues, she understood their dynamics. They tolerated a new favorite, but excessive ambition was unacceptable. Jeanette, acting without full understanding, had inadvertently become a thorn in Kylie's side—Kylie, Carissa's most ardent enemy.

At the banquet, Carissa saw Gerald. She'd spent the preceding hours in the Royal Garden, avoiding him, though she knew it was futile. With Rafael absent from the capital, and her position as the Hell Monarch's princess consort and Mystic Army commander, she sat directly opposite him. There was no escape.

Gerald, Sigmund's former tutor and Salvador's current teacher, was present along with Trevor, another of Sigmund's former instructors. Their presence was expected given their esteemed positions.

The banquet table overflowed with dishes. Salvador toasted the heavens and his teachers. Gerald's serious demeanor and scholarly air were at odds with the memory of him at the gentlemen's retreat—an image that made Carissa's stomach churn.

To add to her discomfort, Gerald's glances, stemming from the women's academy matter, forced Carissa to bury her face in her food. The dinner felt interminable.

Relieved when it finally ended, Carissa exchanged pleasantries with Victoria and swiftly left the palace. Without Rafael in the capital, she saw no reason to delay her return to the estate with Helen.

At the eastern gates, she encountered Gerald again, entering his carriage. Noticing her, he signaled for assistance.

Carissa considered ignoring him, but he spoke first. "Lady Helen, Lady Carissa, leaving so early?"

She forced a smile. "Yes, Lord Quinton. Are you departing as well?"

"Your Grace," he began, his tone lecturing. "I must speak with you."

Maintaining a respectful distance, head lowered, Carissa replied, "Please proceed, Lord Quinton."

Gerald continued, "Teaching is commendable, but one must not overstep their bounds or feign expertise. Your Grace, you wield a sword, not a quill. The headmistress position requires specific skills. The academy's recent troubles, with you at their center, resulted from overestimating your capabilities. I hope you learn from this."

His words carried the weight of his royal tutor status. Carissa, despite her frustration, recognized the propriety of accepting his criticism without overt objection.

As Gerald turned to enter his carriage, Carissa called, "Lord Quinton, please wait."