The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power Chapter 295: The Truth of the Cosmetics Shop

Queen Isabella's POV:

The carriage rolled forward steadily.

I watched Cindy carefully store away the ruby and the pouch of gold, a faint, unreadable smile lingering on her lips.

"Mother, are you truly afraid of Margaret?"

I shot her a glare, unable to suppress my irritation. "How could I not be? She was the late king's favorite daughter. Even King Ryken gives her leeway. She holds half the Royal Court's noble connections in her hand. With a few whispers, she could ruin someone completely. You were fortunate today—she happened to be in the wrong. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?" she interrupted lightly, almost provocatively. "She would devour me?"

"She may not devour you, but she could make it impossible for you to survive at court!"

"Impossible?" Cindy let out a soft scoff. "Mother, have you forgotten who I am? I am Duchess Spencer, the commander who returned alive from Southreach. My reputation was already 'in ruins' when I broke from James. How much worse could it get? Besides, if she dares to slander a war hero without cause, I wouldn't even need to act. The soldiers who fought beside me—and the werewolves of this city—would tear down her Crystal Palace for me."

I opened my mouth to retort, but found myself speechless.

Looking at her calm certainty, a strange feeling stirred within me—confusion, then reluctant awe.

I had to admit, at Crystal Palace, she had cornered that arrogant princess with just a few sentences, forcing her to spit out what she had swallowed.

That kind of strategy, that kind of boldness—I would never have dared to imagine it.

"Enough about her. Bad luck to even mention it."

She suddenly lifted the carriage curtain and glanced at the street outside, then instructed the driver, "Turn left at the next intersection. We're going to Allure."

"What are we going to the cosmetics shop for?" I stiffened instantly. "It's nearly lunchtime. Shouldn't we be heading home?"

"Tomorrow is the day I return to visit my mentors," she replied gently. "I'd like to prepare a few gifts for my seniors and juniors. I've heard 'Allure' is the finest cosmetics shop in the Royal Court—and since you hold the majority share, it would be a shame to let profits flow elsewhere."

My expression shifted at once.

I wanted to refuse—after all, in my memory, the shop was desolate and nearly empty. If she saw it, wouldn't she mock me again?

But the words caught in my throat.

She was offering to spend money at "our" shop. If I stopped her, I would look guilty.

"Very well ... we can take a look," I answered reluctantly, silently praying that today the shop would not appear too deserted. Even one or two customers would suffice.

The carriage soon stopped before Allure.

Cindy did not step out immediately. Instead, she lifted the curtain slightly and glanced outside.

"This is the shop you said has been operating at a loss?"

She gestured outward, amusement threading her voice.

I followed her gaze—and froze.

The storefront was packed with people, the threshold was nearly trampled flat.

Customers streamed in and out, some carrying armfuls of purchases, others animatedly discussing newly acquired creams and powders.

The affordable section was overflowing, and the line at the register stretched onto the street.

"What ... what is happening?" My voice trembled. "Maria said ... she said business was terrible. That they could barely afford the rent."

"Terrible?" Cindy gave a cold laugh. "Mother, look at this foot traffic. Does this resemble a failing business? This is a gold mine."

My face burned hot and cold by turns, my handkerchief nearly twisting apart in my hands.

"Perhaps ... perhaps there's a promotion today..." I muttered weakly, clinging to the last shred of pride.

"In that case, we needn't go down," she said calmly, lowering the curtain. "Too crowded. I'd hate to ruin my new gown. Martha, go inside and ask whether they have the latest 'Crimson Wish' lipstick from the Kaizer Atelier. I want 10."

"Yes, Your Grace." Martha obeyed, struggling into the crowd.

The carriage fell silent.

The noise outside seeped through the wooden panels, each sound echoing like quiet laughter at my expense.