Marguerite, the former Duchess of Torrinni, receives two letters that will change the course of her life forever; and that will impact young Céleste Richel's life too, in more ways than one.
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When Marguerite is forced to return to Torrinni cour...
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While Johanna supervised the luncheon between Charlotte and Jules, Marguerite introduced Cristina to Prince Sébastien.
Her mind wouldn't settle as she watched them exchange pleasantries. She couldn't erase all her formulations, her theories. Too many puzzle pieces had connected, yet she couldn't figure out how or why. Tiny details linked—Clémentine's promises, Adelaide's requests, Antoine's insecurities—and they meant something. But Marguerite wasn't sure how to investigate without getting deeper into their mess.
Cristina was enthralled by the Prince, replying to everything in gracious tones, her manners ladylike and poised. She'd worn a dress Marguerite didn't approve of—too bright and too low-cut—but it didn't seem to bother Sébastien. In fact, nothing bothered Sébastien because he was elsewhere.
Marguerite knew him well and could tell—he wasn't enjoying the meeting. He was polite, but she spotted him frequently stifling a yawn or feigning a smile.
He is not here by choice.
Did Sébastien care for Céleste, as he'd claimed? Marguerite had observed them from afar, caught their body language, their obvious attraction; and none of that occurred between him and Cristina now. Had someone pressured him? Forbade him from courting a seventeen-year-old lady-in-waiting?
His mother?
After the cringe-worthy encounter, Sébastien excused himself. He grimaced, Cristina squirmed; it was unrequited love at its best. As Marguerite took Cristina up to her room, she bit her tongue to not warn the girl to lower her expectations.
Once in her chambers to prepare for the Ball, Johanna joined Marguerite and detailed Charlotte and Prince Jules' experience.
"They chatted, they flirted, they smiled. He likedher," said the handmaiden, fighting a groan as she fastened Marguerite's stays. "I did not believe it possible, but she might have a chance at wooing him."
Marguerite snorted, trying to find humor in the situation, but still, she worried. Why would Jules lean towards a girl like Charlotte? She was well-bred and her father high-placed, but he preferred the loose and light-hearted girls that frolicked in taverns; not the prissy ones like Miss Geitz.
I will have to keep watch over them.
Johanna enveloped her in a vermilion gown and straightened out the white petticoat. "This concerns you," she said, tugging on Marguerite's medium-length sleeves and fanning out their ruffled edges.
"It does." Marguerite tucked jewels and flowers into her hair as Johanna scooped it into a high bun. "But I am not clear on why, not yet." She powdered her face, rouged her cheeks, dabbed a light pomade onto her lips. "Tonight I will pay close attention to everyone."
Later, as she met the five contenders and Céleste in the main landing, she lined them up, her expression as stern as she could muster. "I remind you again that Torrinni court does not tolerate gossip. I will not point fingers, but I warn you all to quit your bickering and insults."
