♦YOU MUST HAVE READ THE PREQUEL, THE GOLDEN DUCHESS, TO READ THIS BOOK!♦
BEWARE--spoilers in this blurb, for those who have not read previous books! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
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The world is upside down, and those you thought you knew... you no longer...
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It was late. Very late, considering her request. The King had showed up to much later summons, but when Prudence had called him. Not Céleste.
She paced in front of her favorite Winter Garden bench, hair wild, huffing and puffing whenever she glimpsed the door to find it still closed. Half the torches were lit, making the room gloomy, foggy with mystery. If the King showed, Céleste might not even see him until he was inches away from her.
But he wouldn't show. Why would he? He was a busy man, with much more important things to do than to listen to Céleste's complaints.
A creak stopped her dead in her tracks. She whirled towards its source—the Long Corridor entrance door opening.
A figure towered in the shadows of the threshold, draped in dark colors and with a tricorn hat atop its messy curls.
"Miss Richel?" said King Antoine, strained, tired.
Shocked, Céleste dipped into a curtsy as he approached. "Majesty? You came."
"It seemed urgent." He waved her up and settled onto the bench, where he removed his hat and wiped his forehead. "What is it you wanted to speak of?"
Relying on her scrambled thoughts—she hadn't prepared a speech, uncertain if he'd come—she gulped.
He tipped his head sideways. "What is the matter?"
Céleste glanced up at the glass ceiling, letting the stars help her find her footing. "My father had something delivered to me today." She produced the letter from her bodice and dropped it in Antoine's lap. "I know not where he is, or if anyone sits in for him at court, but he wanted this to get to me fast. It... left me unhappy."
Antoine unfolded the parchment and squinted to read it. He kept quiet at first, eyebrows scrunching as his lips moved.
Once finished, he stood up and rubbed his chin. "I am unsure what to say." He slipped the note into her grasp and spun away from her. "Why would you show it to me?"
"Because I believe you can give me proper advice, Your Majesty." He flipped around and glared at her, and she waved him off. "Antoine. I seek your help, because I do not know how to interpret this, and Sébastien said to obey my father, but—"
"—you should always obey your father." The King blew out his cheeks, still turned away from her.
She'd anticipated he would side with Sébastien, with her father; that he'd use logic instead of feelings, that he'd try to present a strong front and wouldn't let his true emotions show. Yet his curt tone surprised her all the same.
"Even now?" She crossed her arms and sneered at the King's back. "Even with this?"
"It is complicated." He shifted his weight and set his fists on his hips. "I understand why he would demand this of you. Refusing to obey him might lead you to lose your family name. He may decline your heritage, decline to offer a dowry, deny you entry into your childhood home. Those are extreme options I doubt Lord Richel would employ, but if he wishes to prove a point..." He snorted. "You Richels are a stubborn lot."
