Eleanor Strikes Back

The tea party unfolded just as Amara had anticipated: a carefully orchestrated gathering laced with ulterior motives. Lady Eleanor's piercing gaze tracked Amara's every movement as she attempted to maneuver through the unspoken etiquette of the 18th century. With a saccharine smile, Eleanor addressed Amara. "Pray tell, Miss Blake, what brings a woman of your… distinctive nature into our midst?" Amara met her stare with unwavering confidence. "I've always thought that distinctive traits are what add flavor to life. Wouldn't you agree?" The subtle challenge in her voice sparked hushed whispers among the guests. Eleanor's smile faltered slightly. "Indeed. Though I suspect it must be quite the adjustment for someone so… unfamiliar with our customs." Amara leaned in just a touch, her smile composed. "I believe adaptability is a valuable skill. It has certainly served me well thus far."

Just as Eleanor was about to respond, James strode to Amara's side, his presence commanding attention. His voice was steady but held an undercurrent of warning. "Lady Eleanor, I trust you're treating Miss Blake with the respect she merits." Eleanor's expression flickered with annoyance, yet she acquiesced. "Of course, Lord Harrington. We were merely… engaging in conversation." James placed a gentle hand on Amara's shoulder, a clear signal to all in attendance. "Excellent. I trust you've recognized how extraordinary she truly is." The ensuing silence was palpable, and Amara couldn't suppress the small, triumphant smile that danced on her lips.