♦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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The breakfast Céleste had scarfed down swam in her belly as she marched. And marched. And marched more.
The cold outside, in the gardens, helped wake her up and dig into Adelaide's cryptic words.
Another crown? Annulment? Public apologies?
She shivered, despite wearing the cloak she'd barked at a servant to fetch her before she hurried out. She hadn't wandered far; a few dozen feet from the doors, she paced and paced, conflicted by the meal she'd shared with the soon-to-be ex-Queen of Totresia, and the conversation they'd had.
Where was Sébastien? Did he have any inkling the Queen had invited Céleste to breakfast? Céleste wanted to locate him, but she worried if she spilled this news, she'd end up divulging Antoine's hidden plans, too. She was incapable of lying to Sébastien, and he'd see right through her.
"You met with Antoine in secret and he told you the military is coming to Totresia?"
She cringed. "I must not seek him out yet."
"Miss Richel?"
Céleste gasped and jolted around to find a young girl hastening over to her, head inclined, teeth clattering. "Yes?"
The girl stopped, curtsied, then gestured at the doors she'd exited through. "I have searched everywhere for you," she said, rubbing her arms. She wore no coat, and her bright fuchsia dress wasn't thick enough to keep her comfortable in such glacial temperatures. "Miss Geitz is waiting for you in her room, for material overviews and accessory pickings!"
Céleste all but rolled her eyes. Hadn't they already looked at gowns the other day? What more could Charlotte require?
"Right now?"
The girl, about to fall to the ground from all her shuddering, nodded. "She insisted."
Though she had much better things to do—such as pace in the cold until she could decipher Adelaide's intentions—Céleste huffed.
"Fine, I am coming."
The maiden whisked Céleste inside, and the heat from the many fireplaces brushed over her cheeks and swam down her neckline, warming her insides—but not her heart.
Another round of Charlotte's irritating voice, wonderful.
Once upstairs, they slipped into the room, welcomed by Charlotte's habitual shrill screeching about a lack of options.
The maiden who'd fetched Céleste closed the door and disappeared to a corner of the room.
Céleste remained at a distance, hesitant to get involved. She spotted heaps of garments on the peppy pink sheets, all in different hues and textures, from plain petticoats to sparkly skirts that would blind anyone daring to gaze upon them too long.
