♦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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Romain's face turned redder than a fully bloomed scarlet rose, and he barged out, screaming about finding Cornelius at once.
It had to be a nightmare. Céleste had it all wrong, she'd misunderstood, misinterpreted facts; it wouldn't be the first time.
The crimson-coiffed toxic beauty who stole Antoine, who conspired with Clémentine, who paraded among Totresian nobles pretending to belong, the flimsy excuse for a Queen, the bad friend... was coming to Giroma? No.
It cannot be.
Prudence had sunk to her knees without realizing, and Pauline appeared before her as an angel in satin skirts, wrapping her arms around Prudence's waist.
"Heavens," she said, struggling to heave her daughter up, "we must get you back into your seat." She guided Prudence to her chair. "This affects you more than you think." She jutted her chin at Prudence's stomach. "Both of you."
Clutching her lower belly, and surprised that it didn't ache, Prudence winced. "You have no idea. Adelaide is vermin. A conspirator, a rat disguised as a mouse. She will hurt him. She will hurt us."
Pauline plunged into her seat, her great gown billowing up as if to swallow her whole. "There has never been such drama in Giroma. Not even when your father died. We covered it up, protected the people, but..." She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead. "In twenty-some years, we have been peaceful, quiet. But now—"
"—now you have me." Guilt bubbled inside Prudence as she dug her nails deeper into her stomach. Pauline snapped to her, mouth agape; but Prudence shook her head. "It is true, no? All this drama started when you told Romain who I was. When he brought me here. Home. I ruined your home."
She prepared to stand, gripping the armrests, but Pauline clapped a hand atop hers, blocking her. "No." She groaned. "I mean, yes, the drama coincidentally animated with your arrival, but it is not your doing. I should have been more cautious. Should have spoken up sooner, better eased you into your new life, not dragged you here in haste to marry you off to the highest bidder."
Prudence snorted. "Drama follows me. I caused it in Totresia, too. I sent the woman I once called Mother into a frenzy over trying to dispose of me, pushed my friends into insanity, messed with the man I—" she choked before saying loved, "—with the King's position. It is not all your doing, either."
"You are not at fault." Pauline fixed a stray curl that had skidded over Prudence's temple. Her glistening eyes showed real emotion, for the first time that morning, leading Prudence to believe she was happy to be a grandparent, even if it was to a foreign child. "It was that Dowager, Clémentine." She flinched, fighting a snarl. "I abhor how she treated you. Giromian or not, she raised you, took you in as family. Yet she offered you fear instead of happiness." Her lower lip quivered. "And that is my doing. I let it happen, and I should have invaded—"
