MasukElena Whitmore did not attend the luncheon.
It was noted. Quietly at first. Then with interest.
Her absence was unusual enough to feel deliberate. Elena was known for precision. For appearing exactly where she was expected, dressed correctly, smiling at the right moments, never early and never late. She understood the rhythm of Aurelia society as if it had been taught alongside her first language.
So when she did not appear, people noticed the silence she left behind.
Lillian heard about it secondhand.
Sofia mentioned it casually while they reviewed invitations in the smaller sitting room, her tone light but her eyes attentive. “Elena has declined three events this week. She gave no reason. That is not like her.”







