♦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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Though the confession removed a weight from her shoulders—and even soothed her nausea for a spell—guilt still swarmed through Prudence. She avoided nobles and glided up to her quarters without being seen. Once inside, she shed her dress and splashed her face with water.
How would she ever relax again? She was to marry Cornelius, she suffocated in this massive castle loaded with secrets, and she was pregnant with the child of the man she wanted so desperately to stop loving.
Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw him, bright-eyed with a taunting smile. His image beckoned her to want to jump into bed with him and revive their torrid affair. His voice haunted her, thrumming in her ears, caressing down her neck as his lips had. His despaired features flashed on repeat, begging for forgiveness, furthering the pain in her abdomen.
She gagged and clapped a hand over her mouth as she rushed to the washroom to unleash all her woes into her chamberpot. She remained there for what felt like hours, coughing, crying, and sweating so much her skin turned dry and flakey.
When she finally crawled to bed, she fell asleep, too exhausted to let her thoughts burden her.
***
Daylight poured in through her parted curtains, blasting her cheeks, but she was already awake. It was as if her body had anticipated she'd soon be disturbed—minutes later, Sarah spilled into the room.
"Good morning, Your Highness!" Her chipper tone tightened the knots in Prudence's stomach.
She brushed the back of her palm over her wet forehead. "Good, no. It is not good."
"Highness?" Sarah fluttered over and stuffed her face too close to Prudence's. "Are you still unwell? Did you sleep at all? You are pale, paler than usual."
Prudence sat up so fast her insides threatened to spew out; but the motion also sent Sarah sliding backwards, giving Prudence a second to compose herself.
"Is all this fanfare necessary? Barging in at dawn, every morning?"
Sarah's chin dropped. "No, it is..." She bit her lip. "It is because of the ball, your mother wants you awake and alert. She has, again, requested your aid—"
"—and I already said no." Prudence shoved a pillow over her eyes. "Tell her I am ill, if that will get me out of the planning."
"But Highness," Sarah's voice was closer, "it is your formal introduction to Giroma! Do you not want to take part in organizing it?"
"Look at me!" Prudence gestured at her sweat-drenched nightgown, her tangled curls, her sullen cheeks. "Do I seem fit to organize a ball? Besides, I do not have the first clue on how Giromians party, as Mother called it."
"Perhaps I should call for the physician," said Sarah, cowering as she strode backwards. "This sickness has gone on too long—"
"—no!" Prudence's fists slammed onto the bedspread.
