♦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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Prudence's guilt lessened following her evening with Romain. He opened up to her, recounting stories of his childhood, of when he met Cornelius, when he first saw Antoine, when he ascended to his position as King of Giroma. His tales fascinated her, and she'd fallen asleep that night knowing he forgave her.
But Pauline's pardon hadn't yet manifested. Prudence became impatient, yearning for her mother's approval, which prompted her to spy on the Dowager the day after Romain's visit.
She followed her mother through the Westten Castle halls in the morning, when she paraded about with her ladies. Peeked into the Private Solar upstairs while Pauline played cards in the afternoon. And hid in the small assembly of nobles listening to her beautiful tunes on her grand piano in the Music Room, after supper.
Later that night, Prudence attempted to chat with Pauline near her chambers, but she slipped into her room with the aid of her ever-buzzing ladies.
Prudence returned to her suite and pouted, wishing her mother wouldn't avoid her, wishing she'd come to her like Romain had.
Several times she wrote to her, but the words became more of a diary of confessions and pleas for forgiveness, hopes for a truce. Romain had promised she would come around; yet Prudence felt that her mother hated her. Was it really because her grandchild wasn't fully Giromian? Or did it have to do with the fact that this child would have some of Clémentine's blood? Prudence recalled her mother's disdain for the former Totresian Queen, and perhaps there was more to this animosity than she thought.
Prudence had questions—worries about pregnancy, about raising children, about education—with no one to get answers from. Needing to keep the secret of her predicament within the royal circle, she had no one to talk to.
The idea of confiding in her brother made her gag.
"He would not know the first thing about pregnant women," she said, pursing her lips at her reflection. "And he may still be unversed in a women's anatomy." Thinking of her sibling's sexual experience—or lack thereof—made her gag again. The more she envisioned him gallivanting about with women, the more her nausea worsened—and not caused by her pregnancy, for once.
She disrobed and padded over to her washroom, slipping into the tub filled to the rim with scorching water, as she'd requested that morning. After hissing at the temperature, she soaked her sore muscles and melted into the heat, temporarily easing all her negativity.
The bath's soothing effects didn't last long. The instant she reached for her robe and tiptoed out into her crisp bedroom air, all her tension returned. Gurgling resumed in her belly and the throbbing in her temples turned incessant.
Something that would have once delighted her—carrying Antoine's child—was now the bane of her existence. It had almost ruined her relationship with her brother, and had dampened her connection with her mother, severing the proximity they'd developed.
