The Villianess story: A 100 ways to kill your husband
Chapter 197: Clothes doesn’t makes a princess

Chapter 197: Clothes doesn’t makes a princess

Abrielle knew what was in their minds, a slave priestess given such an honourable title previously held by just her. Alfonso glanced at Abrielle, trying to sense a shift in her mood, but the princess was still composed, taking a sip of her wine.

From the corner of the room, Abrielle watched, her lips curving into an amused smirk. She had known something dramatic was bound to happen tonight; this was not the exact plot, but she had a feeling a bigger drama was kept installed.

Callista approached the queen and knelt in gratitude, Eleanor lifted her wine glass once more.

"To Lady Callista and to the goddess who continues to bless this kingdom."

The guests raised their own glasses in response, but not all did so willingly. A good fraction didn’t like the idea of a former slave having a title that was above theirs. Abrielle wondered if it was an empty title or one that came with land.

And as the toast concluded. A knight approached Eleanor presenting a sword. Her blade was unsheathed and carefully touching Callista’s shoulders with a blade, and it was made official.

"Arise holy lady Callista," the Queen announced. Callista rose from where she knelt and bowed before the queen before turning to the crowd. A round of applause echoed around the hall.

The female lead was overwhelmed by such a reception, her hands were secretly clutching the skirt of her dress. The ball soon got into full swing. All the nobles and top influential figures were looking for an opportunity to butter up the queen with their presents and praises.

It seemed more like trying to get your boss to be in a good mood to get a promotion. Abrielle rolled her eyes at their actions. She still had her first glass in her hand. She was being mindful of what she drank knowing no one would help her back to the seaside castle if she got drunk in the slightest.

"With the number of times you have rolled your eyes, it will fall out soon." A particular unnerving voice chirped in and she was even urged to roll her eyes again. He had been chirping endlessly in her ears all night, and it was getting unbearable to listen to his constant chirping.

She was starting to miss Cedric again, at least that one spoke less and kept annoying flies. "Don’t you have something better to do, Alfonso Von Drakkar?" She sneered at him.

He smirked at her, there was nothing more entertaining than getting on her nerves tonight. She never fails to react to every comment. She was more interesting than those other nobles who were trained to control their facial expressions, masking their true thoughts always.

"Getting on your nerves is the highlight of the night. Besides, I love how your eyes are judging everyone in this room." He replied; Abrielle’s eyes met briefly with Karissa; dear mummy was not happy her son was spending oddly a lot of time with the tyrant’s wife.

She knew Alfonso was using this as an opportunity to get under Cedric’s skin but she kept on having this unsettling feeling. "Alfonso seems oddly close to Abrielle, I had no idea they were that close until Cedric went miles away." Marinette chirped by Karissa’s side. A soft smile on her lips.

Karissa’s smile went stiff; she knew the underlying meaning of Marinette’s words. It was the same thing she was seeing but hoped wasn’t the case. "They are family. I see nothing wrong in talking with each other while sharing a drink. By the way, have you heard any words from Ophelia?" Karissa changed the topic immediately.

Marinette, nervous, finished her drink. "My daughter is fine, she sent back a letter before leaving Vesper for Galvai. I am glad she is settled down." Ophelia said, sparing Abrielle another glance before looking away.

Abrielle sighed; she hoped whatever rumours were cooking were not bad enough to get to Cedric’s ears. She was sure he would care a little that his wife was rubbing his name in the mud. "Prince Alfonso, I am count Carlos from winter...." The words faded off in Abrielle’s ears. Alfonso had an impressive presence making it hard not to recognize him at first glance despite having a mask on.

She used the opportunity of Alfonso being distracted to flee. Her heels rapidly clicked against the floor as she wove through the crowd. There was a lovely dance presentation going on so the dance floor was free.

She gave her glass to an attendant before going behind the curtains that led to a balcony. Her eyes darted at the garden below where she could spot a couple making out passionately in the dark.

Just when she thought she could have a break her peace was interrupted. Abrielle sighed. She knew this would happen, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Princess Abrielle," she heard a female voice call sweetly. The footsteps stopped just a few steps away from her. The sound of music was already fading in the background.

Abrielle held the handrails of the balcony; the cold breeze blew through her hair. She was indeed too lazy to turn around. "I had no idea I was of interest to the holy lady. " Abrielle commented.

Callista stood behind Abrielle. Her palms were sweaty, feeling nervous about the princess’s presence.

"I am sorry if you feel offended. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way." Callista mentioned. Abrielle glanced over her shoulders to see Callista. Her brows furrowed, confused as to why the priestess was shaking.

"What makes you think I am offended?" She asked

Callista’s lips slowly parted as she hesitantly spoke. Abrielle was puzzled if her silver mask was scary in any way. If anyone should be nervous it should be her being in the presence of the woman that would cause her death.

"The queen gave me a title equivalent to yours, and you were uncomfortable throughout the party. You failed to congratulate the queen," Callista mentioned. Abrielle’s eyes dulled at her words

"I am not offended by your title, holy lady. Trust me, I was just tired," Abrielle answered. She honestly couldn’t care less about the title.

"I am glad you feel that way. I didn’t want a misunderstanding."

"Trust me there won’t be one. You can dress a servant in expensive clothes, but it doesn’t make her a princess."