**THE PRINCESS SERIES is part of the GOLDEN UNIVERSE, and considered a sequel to THE GOLDEN QUEEN/A BRAZEN LOVE**
♦YOU MUST HAVE READ THE GOLDEN UNIVERSE NOVELS AND THE BRAZEN NOVELS TO READ THIS SERIES!♦
Cordelia, the Princess of Totresia, has alw...
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♪ I wish you knew that even you Can't get under my skin, if I don't let you in ♪ {Sabrina Carpenter—Skin}
Vexed and embarrassed, Cordelia continued her rebellious cloistering to her quarters, unwilling to mingle with any of her prospects, or come across any of her competitors.
It was her usual reaction when upset or irritated. She'd steer clear of other courtiers, make herself scarce to not show her frustration, and decline invitations, feigning feeling under the weather or downright ignoring the correspondence. She'd done it on many occasions in the past, to avoid putting herself on display. To not put herself at risk of her feelings imploding out in public. She didn't want more shame to float over her name.
The other royal family members didn't try to draw her from her chambers. They knew her well, and when she kept to herself, it was best to leave her alone. Sébastien had a few baskets of goods delivered to her with handwritten notes begging her forgiveness—he'd been forgiven, of course—and Céleste had scribbled a sweet note of understanding, having once felt the supreme pressure of an overbearing brother.
"Yet she does nothing to help," said Cordelia, tossing Céleste's letter onto her mattress and falling beside it. Her satin shift slipped over the sheets of her unmade bed and the fabric tickled her skin.
"I doubt she has any more power than you, Highness." Clarisse sewed a peach rose to Cordelia's dress for the Inauguration that night. "What would she say to the King? You are like Emeric and that is far from a compliment? No, she would be delusional to speak up on your behalf." She sat comfortably, her attitude back to normal. As if she hadn't betrayed Cordelia to her boss and gotten her scolded.
"Right, because the only one who can speak up will not do so." Cordelia glanced at the well-written but pointed, prickly invitation she'd received that morning, in Marguerite's hand. It wasn't the standard copy that everyone else received—this one was specifically for Cordelia, and there was no mistaking it. "Despicable. You will present yourself and entertain your suitors instead of keeping to your room and ignoring them all. Ha! Her handwriting, but Antoine's voice, it is obvious."
"Well, obvious or not..." Clarisse got up and raised the dress to inspect her work. "The event is tonight and your absence would be noted."
"Would it?" Cordelia scoffed as she sat up and tugged on her shift's hem, drawing it to her ankles where it belonged. "All the men must hate me for declining their requests to meet me."
Excited at the prospect of exchanging juicy gossip, Clarisse hurried to hang the dress over the changing panel and dropped onto the mattress beside Cordelia, clapping her hands. "Oh, but they do not. And that is the real problem, you see. They all still vie for you and maintain that their main goal is to woo you... to the detriment of the other debutantes."
"Are you serious?" Cordelia squinted at her lady-in-waiting, unsure if her exaggeration was to be believed.
Clarisse nodded. "They have dubbed you the star of the Inauguration, and the other contenders are furious. Yes, they were aware this was your Season, and they were to be mere participants. But the majority, from what I understand, are insane with jealousy. They have been nothing but spiteful in their discussions about you."
