The Empress Dowager's chamber, once a sanctuary of control and power, crackled with tension as Victoria rose from her chaise, fury coiling through her every movement.
"How dare he?" she hissed, pacing with thunderous steps. "How dare the Emperor defile himself by bedding that lecherous little serpent? I knew she was dangerous from the start. Eyes too soft, tongue too sweet. A schemer, the lot of them always are."
Her ladies-in-waiting remained silent, heads bowed.
"I shall not allow this farce to bloom," Victoria declared, her voice sharp with resolve. "She may have shared his bed, but she will never wear his crown."
One of her maids hesitated. "Shall I prepare your carriage, Your Grace?"
Victoria turned, eyes gleaming with icy purpose. "No. I shall walk. The palace must see me. Let them know the Dowager Empress does not sleep while harlots rise."
And with that, she swept from the room, her silken gown trailing like a shadow of vengeance behind her.
Meanwhile, in the resting room of the west wing, the air was light with mischief and curiosity until Lola entered. The moment she stepped in, conversation paused, and six pairs of eyes turned toward her.
"Well, well, well," Julian drawled, folding his arms with theatrical flair. "Here comes the lady with the morning's headline."
Emily sprang from her seat and grabbed Lola's hands. "Oh, Lola, how are you feeling?" she whispered, pulling her down beside her on the divan.
Sophia, ever blunt, smirked. "You whore," she teased, eyes twinkling with delight. "Took you long enough. I thought you'd leave without letting His Majesty have a taste."
The men winced.
"Sophia," Ava muttered with an exhausted shake of her head.
"Not everyone is as... enthusiastic as you are," Liam added dryly.
Ethan leaned forward, concern written across his face. "Seriously, Lola. How are you? What did the Emperor say this morning?"
Before she could answer, Julian cut in with a scoff. "What do you want him to say? He's the Emperor. It's not as if he'll actually get serious about her. She gave herself to him, he got what he wanted."
Everyone froze.
Liam tossed a pillow at Julian's face. "Idiot."
"Do you want to get punched?" Ava asked, her voice sharp as steel.
Julian threw his hands up. "What? I'm just being honest!"
"Your version of honesty is never welcome," Sophia retorted, eyes narrowed.
"No one here takes you seriously, and with good reason," Ethan added.
"Enough, all of you," Emily said gently, turning back to Lola with a warm smile. "Everything's going to be alright. I believe that. It has to be."
Lola gave a small nod, her smile faint but sincere. "I'm not worried about the rest," she said. "What's done is done. I chose it, and I stand by it."
There was a moment of quiet, an acknowledgement of her strength before Sophia, ever impatient with sentiment, clapped her hands.
"Enough of this sappy nonsense. Let's speak of something that doesn't involve royal bedsheets," she said with a dramatic sigh. "Emily, tell us about that letter your husband sent. The one where he begged you to come back and swore on his life that he couldn't live without your eyes."
Emily flushed. "He didn't say that exactly…"
"Oh, darling, don't be modest," Sophia grinned. "You're glowing."
Lola laughed softly, letting the warmth of their company wash over her. For a moment, it almost felt like nothing had changed.