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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Hoisting her jaw into place, Marguerite scampered into the Office after a furious Antoine and a scowling Sébastien.
As soon as she closed the door, Sébastien growled. "The nerve!"
The familiar smell of tobacco and firewood wafted up her nose, for a moment plunging her in the past. In a time where Edouard tutored her as his nobles met in the Cigar Room to indulge in digestifs and gamble away their hard-earned money.
The plush chairs to her left, encircling the fireplace, had been imbued with the earthy, smoky scent. As she twisted to look at them, she pictured Edouard pacing before the fire, dictating his lessons. Straight ahead, behind the mahogany desk, she sighted the faded map of Europe that he used to point out the various countries he allied with, and those he didn't.
Like Giroma.
Sébastien's stomping drew her from her recollections. "This is... I mean... is it true? This Thatcher ordeal?"
"It is. His daughter confirmed it, and your mother, if coerced, would throw his name into the fire too, I bet."
Antoine sat in his office-throne, his face in his hands. "Was it worth the sacrifice?" He parted his fingers and peeked at her. "That title makes you available, you know that. Fullyeligible to marry a Duke."
"And you signed it!" Sébastien swerved around and towered over the desk.
Antoine pounded a fist to the wood, sending a few papers scattering to the side. "At that point, we had no choice. We must recognize it wasfor a noble cause. Do you fault her?"
Unaffected by his sibling's tone charging with irritation, Sébastien still hunched over the desk. "I do not—I fault you!"
"Me?" Antoine leaned in his seat and crossed one leg over the other, his foot jittering.
"Yes, you. The King! Allowing all these foul affairs to happen beneath your nose and doing nothing!"
Antoine's foot stopped moving and his gaze narrowed on Sébastien. "Nothing?" He angled forward. "Do you not understand the risks I take by speaking up? Mother controlsthe court! I am her pawn, I see it now! But I have been investigating, seeking the ultimate proof to send her off, like we discussed the other night in the Winter Garden."
"Right," Sébastien scoffed, "and that was over four days ago, but have you progressed? No. Mother is still here and organizing votes behind your back! The Giromians still infest our hallways! And Maggie is stillengaged in secret to that monster!"
Sensing the tension rise, Marguerite marched over and shoved Sébastien out of the way. His mouth had tightened into a straight line, his knuckles turned white.
He is the level-headed one; if he has lost his temper, should we all do the same?
Antoine tipped over, stiff and stressed, grunting inaudible curses.
