4141.222 · August 10, 1821 AD
The Mask I Must Wear
When your world collapses, you have two choices: shatter or perform. Madelyn Jeffries chooses performance. As Victoria Ashford arrives for their weekly tea, the drawing room becomes a stage where every word must be measured, every expression controlled. But Victoria has always been observant—dangerously so. How do you hide a catastrophe from someone who reads you like a book? How do you grieve whilst playing hostess?
The hollow echo of approaching hooves announces Victoria Ashford's arrival, cutting through Madelyn's troubled thoughts like a blade through silk.
It's Friday. Their weekly tea. The routine that seemed so important yesterday now feels like torture. But to turn Victoria away would spark exactly the kind of speculation Madelyn can't afford. So she must perform. Must be the composed Mrs Jeffries whilst her world crumbles. Must answer questions without revealing secrets. Must accept comfort from someone William warned her not to trust.
Victoria sweeps in wearing her riding habit and sharp, intelligent eyes that miss nothing. The kind of friend who has known you since childhood—who can read every micro-expression, every slight hesitation, every unspoken truth. The kind of friend who has always been both ally and rival, comfort and competition.
As they settle by the fire with cold tea and hollow conversation, Madelyn realises she's entered the most dangerous game of her life. Every word is a potential trap. Every silence breeds suspicion. And Victoria, with her aristocratic poise and calculating gaze, isn't just here to offer sympathy.
She's here to observe. To deduce. To discover.
When friendship becomes interrogation, how do you survive with your secrets intact?
