The Alpha King's Mind Reading Maid (Cecilia) novel Chapter 139

Chapter 139

“Do you know that girl?” Jasmine asked.

“No,” I lied again, this time the tie coming easier because, in a way, it wasn’t a lie. I barely knew Sophia… at least not in the way I thought I did.

Jasmine and the others didn’t need to know the entire story; they just needed to know that the girl I thought Sophia was… she wasn’t. So, in hindsight, I had no idea who she was.

“We should go,” Cora said, glancing at us. “We were told to meet Madam Isa for our dress fitting in the lounge.”

“Oh, yes,” Claira said, her face lighting up. “I’m excited to see what my dress will look like.”

By the time we reached the concubine lounge, Madam Isa was already there with a few women standing behind her carrying sewing needles and elegant-looking fabric.

The room looked different from the way it had earlier.

Quieter.

Maybe a little more expectant.

The laughter from before faded, replaced with a nervous kind of energy that clung to the air. Every girl in the room seemed suddenly aware of what was coming tomorrow.

Regardless of whether we were chosen or not… it would still be the end. We would be able to return home and resume our lives as if none of this had ever happened. Would I be able to go back and pretend my father didn’t betray me? Pretend that kiss with the King hadn’t happened… pretend that I wasn’t falling in love with a man that was so out of my reach it was almost laughable?

We were the last to arrive in the lounge, which didn’t go unnoticed by Madam Isa, who narrowed her blue eyes at us and pressed her red lips together.

“You’re late,” she said.

Cora dipped her head slightly.

“Our apologies, Madam.”

Madam Isa hummed under her breath, clearly unimpressed, but she waved her hand away.

“No matter. Line up with the others,” she demanded.

We did as instructed without hesitation, ignoring the others’ snickers.

I took my place beside Jasmine, keeping my posture straight and my expression neutral. It was easier to focus on this… on the routine… than to let my thoughts wander back to the foyer when I saw my father… or Sophia.

Madam Isa moved down the line, inspecting each of us like we were pieces of fabric she was deciding whether to keep or discard.

“Turn,” she ordered us all, and just as she commanded, we all turned. “Lift your chin.”

We all did what we were told once again.

She stopped in front of me; her eyes penetrating and assessing. Her fingers rubbed against my shoulder, adjusting the position slightly before stepping back.

She hummed again, slightly louder this time, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, wondering what she could be thinking about at this moment.

“As you ladies already know, you’ll be fitted for your gowns. Each of you will be presented in a way that best highlights your… potential.”

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A few of the girls shifted slightly at that.

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Without waiting for much response, Madam Isa turned to look at me and pointed her slender finger in my direction, making me

stiffen.

“Cecilia,” she said, motioning for me to step forward.

Suddenly, the room felt smaller, and there were far too many eyes on me. I felt heat creeping up the nape of my neck as I took a hesitant step.

Madam Isa circled me slowly. Her gaze was critical as it traced every line of my body.

“Interesting,” she murmured.

I kept my eyes forward.

“As interesting as a cobweb in the attic,” Vivian said with a smirk.

Madam Isa didn’t bother saying anything to Vivian in return. Instead, she took a piece of deep-colored fabric-rich, darker than any other fabric that I’ve seen in this place.

She held it up to me, and my breath hitched at the sight of it. The contrast was striking, and I found myself wanting to reach out to it, run my fingers down the delicate fabric, to see what it felt like.

Everyone else was silent as well, like they were holding their breaths and waiting for Madam Isa to say something.

“This is the one,” Madam Isa stated, making nearly everyone suck in their breaths.

“Madam, you must be mistaken,” Vivian said, stepping forward. “That’s the royal linen. Nobody wears the royal linen unless they are royalty.”

My heart stopped in my chest as I focused on the fabric Madam Isa held in her hands.

Royal linens?

“The color was practically made for Cecilia,” Madam Isa said, raising her brows at Vivian. At that point, she turned to look at me, a knowing look in her eyes. “Trust me… the King is going to love it.”

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