Beauty was expensive. Maeve was not ugly; she was simply poor.
But worst of all, like most poor people, she had nothing, yet could not let go of the pride that only embarrassed her. Dorothea's gaze fell on Maeve's flushed face, and she sighed inwardly.
Sometimes she envied Vanessa. Only someone as pure as Vanessa could truly avoid being trapped by such tedious things.
She and Maeve, standing opposite her, were only ordinary people after all.
Dorothea looked away, her expression softening a little, and took Maeve's hand to lead her outside.
"Come with me. There are some things I need to ask you."
She could feel Maeve's entire body stiffen the instant they touched.
But Maeve did not refuse and simply followed behind her without a word.
"Maeve's here."
The two arrived at Vanessa's room. Everyone turned to look, and Maeve immediately grew nervous, instinctively wanting to retreat. But Dorothea tightened her grip on her hand and held her there.
This seemed to give Maeve courage, and the small, thin girl finally raised her head.
The people in the room noticed this and exchanged discreet glances.
Vanessa, of course, paid no attention to any of that. "Maeve, tell us exactly what happened when you and Simon went out to the countryside that day. I might have a way to save him!"
"Save... him?" Maeve's eyes went blank for a moment before she grew nervous again. "Simon, is he... is he in some kind of trouble?" "Didn't you say his personality had changed, that he wasn't the same as before?" Dorothea's voice came from beside her. "We suspect he's come down with some kind of illness. Tell us the details, and we can help you think of a way to turn him back into the person he used to be."