Stalker

Chapter 72 – Daphne POV

I have a stalker.

A bad one.

Not the creepy-breathing, hiding-in-your-wardrobe kind.

No, this one's… elegant.

…And cute.

And clumsy.

The Duchess.

Duchess Evelyne Callum.

My not-wife-but-sure-feels-like-it-sometimes.

I've seen her.

I think everyone in this castle has seen her.

But since she's—you know—the duchess, no one's saying a word.

She lurks.

On balconies.

In garden paths.

Behind columns.

Once, I caught her pretending to look at a bush. A very dead bush. For ten full minutes.

She thinks she's subtle.

She's not.

It's even funnier because she wears those enormous gowns—layers of silk and structure and dignity. She's basically a mobile tent made of lace.

And yet, there she is now.

I head toward the stream, basket of cloths in hand, and in the distance—there she is.

Blonde hair coiled like spun gold.