From the shadowed edge of the corridor, Guinevere had observed everything. The moment Cleopatra spoke of meeting Calvin, curiosity and a quiet, calculating interest stirred within her. She followed at a distance, footsteps light, patience carefully restrained.

When Calvin finally vanished from sight, Guinevere stepped forward.

“Cleo!” she called brightly, waving as she hurried closer. “I was just going to buy some bread when I saw you. Why were you with Calvin?”

Concern painted her voice, thin and deliberate, like a fragile mask worn over something deeper. In her eyes, unnoticed by Cleopatra, a faint glimmer of calculation lingered.

“He asked me out,” Cleopatra said simply, her tone neutral but...