Chapter 317 Even in the carriage, Ines kept obsessively embroidering. Juana sighed over it, saying, “You’re pricking your fingers with the needle more than the handkerchief…,” but a maid’s loyalty never prevailed over her mistress’s stubbornness. Messy though it was, thanks to Isabella’s preliminary sketch it had more or less looked like Cárcel’s name; but ever since they had hurriedly...
🔒