It had been a while since Chelsea last saw Blake—ever since she got carted off like a lunatic at the Rose Exhibition.

Both her elder and younger brothers had asked if she wanted them to teach Blake a lesson, to send her a warning.

Chelsea simply said, “No need.”

Sure, mistresses were despicable, but a fly wouldn’t land on an uncracked egg. If the egg had already gone bad, she didn’t want it anyway. Trying to salvage it would only dirty her hands. As for the fly—

As long as it didn’t bother her, she couldn’t care less whether it lived or died. It would get swatted sooner or later....