♦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!
••••
The world is upside down, and those you thought you knew... you no longer...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Céleste hid in shadows as she navigated the slumbering corridors of Torrinni Castle. She snaked past the first floor landing, crept down the stairs, and slithered out into the frosted air. The early morning sun blanketed her face, and the guards eyed her warily, but the initial part of her ruse had succeeded—they'd waved her on to her tasks, believing her to be a serving girl. In her worn-down gown and falling apart wool coat, she looked nothing like Miss Richel.
Adrenaline pumped to her heart, causing it to thump and thrum as she skittered across the lawn, boots crunching over the icy dew. She tore the stable doors open, sucked in a breath—and came nose to nose with Esther Bristol.
"Hello there, Céleste," said the former contender, clad in an unusual shade of charcoal, her vivid auburn curls concealed beneath a hood. Her peppy blue eyes fixed on Céleste as she crossed her arms. "Fancy finding you here."
"Esther?" Céleste pulled her coat's collar up higher. "When did you get here?"
"At the same time as your brother, of course." Esther's hood dropped. Her hair, smelling of lavender, fell in heaps over her shoulders. "I have been watching you."
As her fists tightened, Céleste huffed. "He would employ his own fiancée to spy on me?" Her eyebrows scrunched. "This should not surprise me."
"He did not ask me to." Esther smirked. "I did it on my own accord, because I had a hunch. And," she scanned Céleste from head to toe, "it appears I was correct."
"A hunch?" Céleste wanted to chuckle—Esther was far from observant—but knew in her situation, she'd do best to be polite.
"I listen to the rumors. The Dowager leaving, Charlotte's strict wedding plans, the annulment... and your father's letter, that you still have not replied to." Esther's nose wrinkled as she stepped backwards. "I am not the child from before, hoarding macarons and spreading useless gossip. Do not underestimate me."
"Fine." Céleste sneered and clapped her hands. "You caught me sneaking out, future sister-in-law. But if you would not mind, I am in a hurry, so—"
"—to go where?" Esther snuck her arm under Céleste's, and to Céleste's surprise, she tugged her towards the horse enclosures. "If I am to guide you, you must give me details on our route."
Céleste argued, Esther threatened, they debated—but Céleste had no alternative but to concede, and permit Esther to escort her. The poor girl wanted out, away from her fiancé's temper, from the court's usual drama.
"Besides," said Esther, as they trotted off on their horses under the slowly rising sun. "You are underage, and disguised or not, you would not get far without me."
She was right; at the gates, the guards asked questions Céleste hadn't prepared for. "Which market?" or "where is your list?" were queries she never would have been able to answer, but Esther took charge. As the fiancée of the future Marquess of Valeville, she had some leeway with her comings and goings.
