Chapter 315: Margaret

Braelyn’s POV

For a moment I stood there staring at the woman leaning against the bathroom door. Then it slowly dawned on me that she wasn’t leaving. My eyes twitched just thinking about it.

My brows pulled together as discomfort crept up my spine. The realisation made my stomach twist. They wanted me to shower under supervision. Even here, inside a locked bedroom with several guards probably stationed outside, they still didn’t trust me.

The thought made humiliation burn under my skin..I hesitated before speaking. “Won’t you… Give me some privacy?”

The head maid didn’t even bother hiding her reaction. She scoffed loudly, as if I had just said something ridiculous. “Privacy?” she repeated, her tone dripping with mockery.

Her arms folded neatly over her chest as she watched me like I was some stubborn child refusing to cooperate.

“You have two options,” she said coldly. “Either you start showering yourself right now or I wash you myself.” The threat hung heavily in the air.

My stomach dropped immediately. The way she said it made it clear she wasn’t joking. I didn’t want a stranger touching me.

I clenched my jaw tightly.

Seeing she had no intention of stepping outside, I turned away and stepped into the shower. The glass door closed behind me with a soft click. A moment later, I turned the handle, and warm water began to pour from the showerhead.

The moment the water hit my skin I nearly sighed out loud. It had been so long since I had a proper shower that the sensation almost felt unreal. The warmth seeped into my sore muscles, washing away days of grime and exhaustion.

For a few seconds, I closed my eyes and simply stood there under the stream. I tried my best to ignore the maid standing just a few feet away.

I grabbed the new soap and wash towel and started scrubbing from my arms, my neck, my face. My fingers moved desperately across my skin as if I could erase the memory of that underground cell. Dirt and dried sweat swirled down the drain as the water ran over me.

The longer I stood there, the more determined I became to wash everything away..I scrubbed harder.

My skin began to sting, turning red beneath my hands, but I barely noticed. The simple act of being clean again felt like a small piece of freedom.

Unfortunately, the maid clearly didn’t share my enthusiasm. The water suddenly shut off.

I blinked in shock as the warmth vanished instantly. When I looked up, the maid was standing beside the controls with an irritated expression. She grabbed a hand shower and fired it at me at high pressure. The cold water made me shield myself.

“You are wasting time,” she said sharply after the hand shower was switched off. A satisfactory smile was on her lips.

Before I could react, she pulled the glass door open and grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the shower.

A large towel was tossed directly at my face. “Dry yourself.”

Shivering slightly, I wrapped the towel around my body and stepped back into the bedroom.

Only then did I notice the clothes lay neatly across the bed.

They were expensive. I didn’t even need to touch the fabric to recognise that. A dark elegant dress, delicate heels, and matching jewellery had been carefully arranged like pieces in a display.

My heart began to beat faster. This wasn’t random. Someone important was waiting. The thought returned to my mind immediately. My fingers curled up..

It could only be him. Who else would they be preparing me for like this? My stomach churned if Yelena had told him the truth. How was I going to face him?

I swallowed and without saying a word, I began getting dressed.

The maids worked around me quickly and efficiently. Their expressions remained cold and professional as they fixed my hair and applied makeup with practised hands.

One brushed my hair until it fell in soft waves down my back.One of them dusted powder across my face and carefully lined my eyes. . They helped fasten the dress and adjusted the necklace resting against my collarbone.

They moved with the quiet precision of people who had done this hundreds of times.

It felt strangely surreal.

A short while ago I had been lying on a filthy mattress in a prison cell, surviving on dry bread and water. Now they were dolling me up like I was attending some grand evening event.

When they finally stepped back, I caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room. For a moment I barely recognised the woman staring back. No it was the other way, I finally looked like me.

My hair was perfectly styled. The makeup softened the exhaustion on my face. The dress fit my body elegantly, making me look like I belonged in a luxurious mansion rather than an underground prison.

I looked like an heiress again. “Let’s go,” one of the maids said firmly.

They didn’t give me time to respond before guiding me out of the room.

As we walked through the hallway, I noticed the sky outside the tall windows had darkened into evening with a spread of orange hue. Soft golden light from the sunset filtered through the glass, casting long shadows across the marble floors.

My heart began to pound harder with every step. We eventually stopped in front of a large wooden door.

One of the maids knocked once before pushing it open. The moment the door swung wide, the sound of laughter drifted out from inside.

I stepped into the room and my breath caught. It was a dining room.

A large table sat in the centre, beautifully arranged with candles and polished silverware. The atmosphere felt almost warm compared to the cold corridors outside.

Three people were already seated at the table. My eyes immediately scanned the room.

Yelena sat at the head of the table, looking as composed and elegant as ever. Beside her sat another woman who looked to be around the same age. Her posture was straight, her brown hair had silver streaks and her hair was pulled back neatly.

The third person was a man. He was around the same age as Ronan. Something about his face felt vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t immediately place where I had seen him before.

But the one person I expected to see wasn’t there. There was no sign of Lucien. My stomach dropped.

The maid behind me cleared her throat and spoke formally. “Madam, she is here.”

The conversation inside the room died instantly. Three pairs of eyes turned toward me. Yelena looked me over slowly from head to toe. A small scoff escaped her lips.

“As you can see,” she said sweetly, her tone dripping with false politeness, “I was a good hostess, Margaret.”

The name hit me like a slap. My entire body froze. Margaret? The same Margaret Yelena had mentioned before.

The lady glanced up her gaze settled on me.”Come here, dear. Let aunty see you. It has been ages since I last saw you.” she beckoned me.

So this was Margaret? I was even more nervous. Why was she here?

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