_Rowena's POV_
I went to her room the next morning.
I didn't bring anyone with me. No guards, no Kasper, no one standing at the door to observe. Just myself. I knocked once out of courtesy and opened the door without waiting for a response.
Alice was sitting up in bed. Her wrists were wrapped in neat white bandages. She had arranged herself in a way that suggested she had been expecting a visitor, back straight, hands visible, expression set into something soft and wounded. The performance she had been using on people for years to make them feel like they were the problem.
I pulled a chair from against the wall, placed it in the center of the room, and sat down.
"Good morning, Mara," I said.
The performance collapsed.
Not gradually. It just fell apart all at once, li
