By Lady Celestine

Dear readers,

Life in high society is rarely as flawless as the lace on one’s gloves or as pure as the crystal in one’s glass. Behind every courteous smile lies a stifled sigh… and behind every toast, a story that should never be told.

That is where I come in.

They call me Lady Celestine — though, to some, I am merely a name whispered through corridors, feared by those with something to hide and longed for by those eager to know. My sources? Absolutely impeccable. My methods? Let’s just say a lady never reveals all her tricks.

From this day forward, Scandal Notes shall be your personal invitation into gilded halls, moonlit gardens, and conversations that were never meant to escape marble walls.

Prepare yourselves to discover forbidden romances, secret dealings, and… perhaps… even one or two names you would never have imagined seeing in this column.

For, as we well know, my dear reader… in our society, the true sin is not to lie — but to be caught.

With all the discretion I do not possess,

Lady Celestine.