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Céleste looked out the window of the downstairs Parlor. Four carriages waited outside, parked in the pebbled courtyard. Through the glass she noted the wear and tear on the shiny vehicles, the shabby wheels, and the drivers pacing about, eager to get moving.

At the prospect of escaping the Royal Academy, her excitement threatened to surface in the form of a squeal. She knew better—proper etiquette prevented her from making that terrible faux pas. Instead, she squeezed the velvet curtain as an enormous smile spread across her face.

After a week of strenuous fittings, ladies screeching commands at maids, and deliveries from all over, it was time. The moment had come to embark on the ride to Torrinni, Totresia's royal capital. To get lost in its famed picturesque, cobbled streets, to admire its surrounding lush green hills, to mingle among its inhabitants.

Céleste's smile grew.

Footsteps echoed in the Entryway to her left. She heard the main doors swing open, followed by Sir Knowles' booming voice, announcing the carriages were ready.

She dropped the curtain to fasten her cloak, pull her traveling mittens up, and straighten her posture, in time for Sir Knowles to peep into the Parlor and motion her towards him.

"Your ride awaits, Miss Richel. You will voyage with Miss M. and Johanna. We received word from your father earlier this morning—your imminent departure thrills him."

Thrilled to send me off to learn a lesson about being a lady!

"Many thanks, Sir Knowles."

As she moved past the threshold, Charlotte and Julia shoved by her, bundled in their matching white travel cloaks. Charlotte sneered, and Julia lifted her nose. Several overworked servants hastened behind them with trunks.

Cristina scampered out too, not a glance spared in Céleste's direction. Esther moved past while ordering a young maid to place her belongings in the luggage freight last. She hurried towards the middle carriage—the one she'd share with a chaperone and Harriet, who waited outside, rubbing her gloved hands together.

The speculations and gossip of the week made Miss Marguerite's words ring true—these ladies would be a challenge.

After a quick inhale of the heated indoors, she whisked out and a rush of wind met with her cheeks. It was cold this year, more so than any other at the Academy, and she wondered if Torrinni would be warmer.

She made it a few paces down the stone stairs, watching the courtyard full of life. The ladies climbed into vehicles as chests and bags were piled into baggage carriages, and maids and butlers hastened about to complete final details and ensure all belongings were secure and the horses geared to go.

Sucking in the crisp air, Céleste captured the moment to memory. She wouldn't see the school again for a while, and despite the torture she'd endured there from some of the girls, she'd also had grand days within the canary-colored walls of the Academy.

The Golden Girl (#2 in the GOLDEN series)Where stories live. Discover now