♦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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Céleste stared at the floor. "You cannot be serious."
"I am." Emeric's polished shoes stopped inches from her, and as she peered up at him, he glared down at her without an ounce of sympathy. "I am giving you an order, Céleste. Did you not think Father expected this behavior from you? He knows you better than you might presume."
She squinted at him as his coffee-tinted breaths washed over her cheeks. "He knows nothing, understands nothing. He is never here to witness what happens."
Emeric scoffed. "He witnessed enough when he visited! He met Prudence, in case you forgot, and she did not make a good impression on him. She did not heed his request to keep you out of the drama; she plunged you into it head-first. Now look at you!" He turned away from her. "You are throwing fits in your room instead of mingling with other ladies of the court, learning from them, training to become a Princess!"
Her eyes burned—from rage or sorrow, she wasn't sure.
"I wanted to be in that drama." She slammed a fist to the vanity beside her, and Emeric veered around, eyebrows raising. "I begged her to clue me in on her affairs. She is my best friend, and I refuse to let you—"
"—let me what?" Emeric's nostrils flared. "She is not your friend. She is a Giromian, and Richels do not associate with the likes of her. Nowhere in our history will you find traces of our family meddling with such crude foreigners. The French, perhaps—we unfortunately descend from them—but never Giroma." He adjusted his coat flaps. "You will ruin us. So cease your childish behavior, or else."
She should have accepted her brother's remarks, but the anger in her gut and the disappointment in her heart fueled her with a sense of daring and adrenaline.
"Or else what?" She brushed off her skirts, as if his proximity had dirtied them. "You will whisper in the Prince's ear, like you did to first tell him about me? Will you now ask him to not care for me, to not marry me because I reject ending this friendship that he approves of?"
"You think he approves?" Up close, Céleste could have sworn smoke filtered out of his nose. "You are beyond naïve." He took a step back and rubbed his knuckles on his jacket.
"He does!" She stomped a foot. "She did not know who she was! How can you hold that against her? How can you blame her? What if she was taken against her will?"
He expelled a guttural chuckle that chilled Céleste to the core. "Again, naïve. She was not forced in the slightest. Your friend wanted to flee, to embrace her royal role at once."
Céleste lifted a finger to the air, then slowly lowered it.
How would he know this?
Was this his way of informing her that her family employed spies and emissaries to creep around court and watch her, and other parties of interest? As she'd suspected?
