Princess of Candor (#1 PRINCESS series-part of the GOLDEN UNIVERSE)✔

•T W O•

♪ And I, I'm in love, but not with anybody else
Just wanna get to know myself ♪
{Billie Eilish—My Future}

Antoine's moodiness hadn't shifted a tad in Cordelia's time away from court. He still stood stiff but obviously wound up, chewing his words before spewing them out, and grumbling under his breath what he really wanted to say. He strained his voice to not let it shatter out and destroy eardrums, but despite his somewhat level tone, Cordelia still shuddered at his implications. She'd opened her mouth to begin protesting his excessive requests for her to come home, but his upright position and never-faltering gaze showed her it wasn't her turn to speak—and she'd best not test him yet.

"Yes, you are to have a Season, and no, I do not care about your objections, Cordelia." His expression was impenetrable, thick as layers of stones, cold as a frozen pond. Sitting in his Study throne, hands clasped on his shockingly tidy desk, he seemed ready to evade any of Cordelia's denials, to dismiss any of her concerns.

And she hated his confidence, because no matter what she said, he'd win.

He is the King, and what he says goes.

For a while, after all that had unfolded between Totresia and Giroma, many believed Antoine would veer away from the behavioral shifts caused by the wars with Giroma and the incessant hammering from France. It was a phase, they'd thought. He built up so much anger when making his case to save Marguerite, that some of the residue lingered in his demeanor, and would fade in time. All held on to hope, recalling that Edouard, despite being a conniving man, was gentle on the outside. He'd ruled with a firm hand but never without a kind smile. Antoine would become the same, no?

No. To their dismay, Antoine was his own person. Once a happy boy, he was now a troubled man. And Antoine only smiled when with Marguerite, or with his children. He was nothing like Edouard, save for his signature scowls of reflection and his wide shoulders and the way he sat in his throne—straight, proud, unrelenting.

It was that same posture that welcomed Cordelia moments before, when dragged into his Study. A few minutes before her arrival—his most favored guard, Denis, had been sent to fetch her the instant she arrived—Antoine had no smiles for anyone. Not his wife, nor his siblings, who were all in attendance. All were present to witness him demeaning Cordelia and reminding her of her place in his court.

"The Princess of Totresia has certain duties, and I expect you to fulfill them."

Sébastien and Jules watched him, trying to anticipate what he'd say and how they might provide damage control should things blow out of proportion. Because situations had gone awry, on many occasions, in that very room.

It started when she turned seventeen, and didn't let up until a few weeks before her eighteenth birthday, when Antoine had elected to take another approach. He'd decided to continue to harass and hound her, yes, but without raising his voice. Had he realized, at last, that his sister was no longer a child, but a young woman to be spoken to with respect? It was hard to fathom his behavior. Though they'd gotten on so well in their younger days, Cordelia and Antoine were now renowned for their screaming fits. Antoine demanded that she do as he asked, and Cordelia refused time after time before stomping out and upstairs to her room. When their fighting ceased, Torrinni court was relieved, but many worried they were walking on eggshells, waiting for the next explosion.