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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Once in her room, Céleste fanned herself. Jealous contenders, foreign Kings, plots to unseat monarchs—neverhad she imagined such drama would unfold at Torrinni Castle.
As she sat at her vanity, she noticed something glimmer in the corner of her eye; something slanted against her rouge box. Upon leaning in close and inspecting it, she caught scribbles and stamps she found familiar.
A letter?
It wasn't folded, and her attention fell on the royal seal at the bottom, prompting her to swallow. Her throat was drier than a desert.
"Who..."
Her gaze moved to the signature—Sébastien's.
All manners of dread coursed through her. He was dismissing her, his mother's nod meant the opposite from what Marguerite had claimed, he'd reversed his decision and picked Cristina instead—
Her shoulders sagged as she reclined in her seat and stretched her fingers. "Do not think ahead. Do not panic."
With a heavy inhale and a deep exhale, she read.
My dearest Céleste,
By now I suspect you are aware of the Ball my brother—ahem, Mother—means to hold in "honor" of King Romain's arrival. Though it displeases me, I have found that it is the perfect occasion to present you to the King and Queen!
With it being on such short notice, I am afraid we have no time to summon your father to court as your escort. I have dispatched a messenger to make him aware of my intentions, and to reassure him you will have someone to accompany you: your brother! I have not spoken with him yet, but I assume you will do so, yes?
Also, Mother told me about your afternoon tea, and I have rarely seen her so impressed with any lady at court! Congratulations!
I will not be able to meet with you before the Ball, but I look forward to seeing you there. Officially.
Sincerely,
His Highness Séb
Céleste studied each of his words, imagining him saying them in his elegant and musical voice, whispering in her ear. His perfect lips parting into a sweet smile, a few locks of his hair brushing against her cheeks. Shivers scrambled down her spine.
Then she lurched from the chair and glowered at her armoire. "But what will I wear? I have nothing that will do for such a formal occasion!"
Massaging her temples to ease the throbbing in her scalp, she blew out a few unsteady breaths. Losing her mind now would cause her to trip and mess this up. She couldn't lose her chance at being with such a magnificent man.
