One glance is all that one needs to know what attitude one has toward them. And Arwen wasn’t blind.
She could tell that the nanny was up to no good.
But she was intrigued to know what she was up to. Given how she hasn’t hesitated to offend her, she could tell that she would be going to be a strong ally to Selene.
But too bad ... strong allies need to have brains. And Carla doesn’t seem to have one. If she had, she would have known — one can’t stay in Rome and fight with the Pope.
Halting in her movements, Arwen turned to look. "Yes?"
"You can’t sit there?" Carla said with the quiet hint of arrogance.
Arwen arched her brows, her gaze briefly flicking to look at the chair she had always chosen to sit. It wasn’t her meant-to-be chair or a chair linked with the title of the mistress of the house. She had randomly chosen it on the first day, and since then, she had been sitting here.
Over time, she took that chair as hers to sit for every meal they had at the table.
"Why?" she asked, pulling her lips in a small smile. "What’s wrong with this chair? Is it broken?" Her gaze turned to briefly glance at the butler who stood on one side, a little distant from them.
Mr. Jones shook his head, indicating that the chair had nothing wrong.
Arwen gave him a subtle nod of understanding before returning her gaze to Carla.
"You haven’t answered me yet."
Carla held Selene’s arms and simply replied, "Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Winslow, but that chair should belong to my young miss. She should sit there."
Mr. Jones was the first to frown.
"Belong to your young miss?" Arwen’s voice rose an octave. "What do you mean by that?" She crossed her arms, looking curious about the answer.
"What are you saying?" Mr. Jones also couldn’t keep calm. "Madam is the mistress of the house. From the people to the objects ... everything here belongs to her. Who gave you the authority to stop her?"
Carla stood clearly defiant, with words on the tip of her tongue. But before she could speak, Selene, on her side, spoke up, her tone reproaching.
"What are you saying, Carla?" her gaze flicking to Arwen and then returning to her nanny. "I am just a guest here. I can’t make such childish demands. Furthermore, Arwen sits on that chair, right next to Aiden. Asking her to give it to me isn’t my place, nor the right thing to do."
However, Carla looked at her as if she was feeling bad for seeing her lady getting mistreated. "Oh, Ms. Selene," she held her hands. "You are always kind and indulgent towards everyone, I know. But this old lady could only think about you and the things that could make you recover better."
"I am not superstitious, but for you, Ms. Selene, I would try everything as long as it could make you better." The motherly love that Carla tried to showcase felt real. "In my village, they say one should sit in the north-east direction to have food. This helps them recover and stay in good health. And this chair is just in the right position," she said, pointing at the chair that Arwen was previously close to taking.
Selene pretended to be in a difficult position. "Carla, you don’t have to believe all that rubbish. Even if it’s true, I am merely a guest here. I can’t make such demands. It’s just —"
"You are a guest, so shouldn’t that make them more obliged to treat you with the best?" Carla said pointedly. "Besides, you are not just a guest here. You once donated so much blood to the late lady of their family. At that, you were barely in your teens. Given all that you did, shouldn’t they be more considerate?"
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