Ranting like a Fool

"Almost," Ifunanya smirked. "She does have a habit of stirring up trouble, whether she means to or not."

The whispers continued, a low murmur of gossip and speculation filling the hall as Nnenna walked past, her face unreadable.

Let them talk. Their words were irrelevant.

She had bigger things to worry about.

Soon, they would all see.

For most of the servants, the only reason they ever missed Nnenna was because she used to help them with their work, bending over backward just to please them and carve out a place for herself in the royal family.

But what she never realized was that none of them truly cared for her.

The harder she tried to be accepted, the more they resented her.

How could a girl with no royal blood be called a princess?

"Tch. Look at her walking in like she owns the place," a servant muttered under her breath.

"Well, at least now she's back. Our work free days are back!" another whispered.