**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! AS WELL AS BOOK ONE, PRINCESS OF CANDOR, AND...
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♪ Baby wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine But it's killing me slowly ♪ {Lana Del Rey—F*** it I love you}
The Baroness hadn't bothered to block the view from the carriage, this time. When she'd first captured Cordelia and Helen, what felt like decades ago, she'd taken many precautions to ensure neither of them knew where they were going, so they'd never be able to locate it again. But on this journey, either she no longer cared, or hadn't thought ahead at the prospect of actually finding and detaining them once more. Oversight or not, Cordelia appreciated it, as looking outside was the only thing keeping her sane.
A seaside breeze wafted into the vehicle as it moved onward, at a rhythm Cordelia expected to exhaust the horses quite fast. The ride was bumpy, constantly throwing Cordelia and Helen into one another. They were both numb with pain and confusion by that point, and stopped trying to prevent their bodies from touching. If anything, the proximity was reassuring; Cordelia wasn't alone.
But at what cost?
Tye was dead, that much was certain. But what of the Baron? What of the other crew members who'd treated Cordelia with respect, who'd brought her food and water and ensured she was taken care of? And who among them might have been working with the fickle-minded Geneviève this whole time?
"There was not a moment where I did not know where you were and what you were up to."
The Baroness had been watching them. She'd anticipated Thomas' betrayal, and she'd had back-up plans. She hadn't interfered in England—as a French woman associated with Napoléon, even she couldn't breach into the country, and would have had to resort to spies, which it sounded like she had. And the instant they left England... she'd known. She'd prepared. And now Cordelia was hers again.
Hers, for now. Until she summons Napoléon and gives me away like a long-awaited birthday gift.
As expected, the horses needed to pause halfway through the trip, and once more when the sun had begun to hang lower in the sky. To one side was a stretch of sea, sometimes cloaked by chunky forests, sometimes wide open and sparkling under the sunlight. To the other side were plains, plains, and more plains. A few small houses, now and then a wagon pulled by a donkey; but otherwise, they encountered no one on their route. No one that Cordelia might have shouted at to ask for help, to save her and Helen from yet another predicament.
A predicament that was, as always, Cordelia's fault.
It had been early morning when the ship had docked onto the abandoned beach. It was now early evening as the carriage rolled down a lengthy pathway, and into a pebbled courtyard, before which stood a large abode of white clay, with a steep tower to its left, overlooking what Cordelia thought was a small bay. Trees surrounded the property, as well as gates almost as high as those encircling Torrinni Castle. The way the fading sunlight hit the walls, they seemed to sparkle.
