**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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♪ Don't call me late at night, knowin' what I'm like, can't trust myself When you walk out, don't turn around ♪ {Jojo—Don't talk me down}
Speaking of Helen only made Cordelia's missing of her worse. As she and Sébastien walked down the rows of flowers, sniffing at the decadent scents, pretending to chat about the things Sir Richel had asked them to, she clenched her fists at her sides, silently praying that she might meet with Helen one last time. It wouldn't be feasible—Sir Richel had made that much evident—yet Cordelia couldn't stop herself from hoping.
By some odd turn of fate, she glimpsed Helen on her way back up the stairs. Sébastien was guided up the other staircase, as before; but as he went up, another individual came down, garbed in a golden gown the likes of which made Cordelia's knees tremble and her strides become clumsy.
Helen was a vision, her hair pinned up, her face washed and decked with powder—not that she needed it, but the radiance made her stunning, heavenly, a mirage. She looked up and sighted Cordelia across the way, about to go up her own set of stairs. Both froze, in awe of one another, unable to say a word. Afraid to say a word, lest their mouths be muffled and they were taken away kicking and screaming.
"Please," said Cordelia, under her breath, watching as Helen was led down the corridor she'd come from. "Please, let me see her." She was addressing her guard, but he'd already commenced up the stairs, and paid her no heed.
She sucked in her lips as Helen disappeared from view, not daring to disobey the man who'd been accompanying her. Where was she going? The indoor gardens? Another office of Sir Richel's?
"Please," repeated Cordelia, catching up with her assigned soldier of the day. "I beg you, mister, to let me meet with my friend."
He didn't frown as he motioned for her to turn into the hallway leading to her room. "We have strict orders to keep you apart. You are only to be called on by Prince Sébastien, and Prince Jules if asked nicely."
Cordelia gripped the edges of her skirts and came to a halt in front of the man, scowling. "I have gold. At home, in Antoine's coffers. Lots of it—more than what this dreadful Marquess pays you, I promise." She didn't know for certain if she had money to her name, but she didn't care about empty promises. She'd pay the consequences later if it meant she'd be accorded a few moments with Helen.
The soldier shook his head and moved by her as if she were invisible. "No, Highness."
She hurried to again block his way. Though small compared to him, she was resilient, and after resting in comforting luxury for a day, she'd regained her strength, her wits. "A knighthood, then? A noble title? State your price, and I will make it so. I only ask for a few minutes."
The man raised an eyebrow, considering the offer, but side-stepped once more, indicating her door as they arrived before it. "I appreciate your efforts, Highness, but I am bound to my word. I belong to Sir Richel. He denies your King, and to seek recognition from him would warrant my death for treason." He nudged Cordelia into the room. "Is there anything I might fetch you before I lock you in?"
