"Are we not going to help her?"
The young woman with violet eyes and violet hair slowly moved her eyes from the crisp newspaper in her hand to her maid who was sitting on the floor by her feet and massaging her legs.
Elizabeth Villin had liked this maid from the get go. She was intelligent and could think on her feet quickly. She required minimal instructions and knew what her mistress wanted. Where everyone in the palace was on the side of the queen and hated her guts to have stolen the love of the king and the empress's husband, this maid had really been her eyes and ears and crutches to survive in this palace.
Elizabeth, whose eyes were getting heavier as the rigorous massage of her legs made her relaxed in her comfy sofa, instantly shifted her position, sitting straight and folding the newspaper, keeping it by her side on the table.