♦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 couldn't stop herself from peeking out as the carriage turned right. They swerved onto a sloped passage into the East Side—the upper-scale neighborhood of Westten, according to Antoine.
She swallowed a gasp and clutched the cloth window flap so hard, she nearly tore it down. Torches lit the way like glowing bugs, revealing a tall, lengthy bridge to her left, made of weathered gray stone. Lining it were buildings with snow-coated rooftops, with faded white walls and curtain-covered windows. Far ahead, atop a majestic cliff, was the Westten Castle, its silvery gray roofs glistening under the moonlight, its balustrades overlooking the city split in two by the bridge.
Céleste had seen drawings of the Giromian royal home and its splendor, but never in her lifetime did she expect to see it, so close and yet so far. Torrinni Castle was flimsy in comparison; which might have explained why Antoine refused to join her at the window to admire Westten's regal edifice.
It was mid-evening when their vehicle sloshed through a slick batch of snow covering the pavement. They passed stony houses, and brown-walled businesses that had closed for the night. Torch lamps posted at every corner, sprinkling the road in a soft but ominous glow. It was picturesque, and yet straight out of a mystery novel.
They parked before a reputable Inn a few yards from the cliff. From her spot, Céleste noticed this structure was a blend of heavy wood and bricks, standing several stories high with a lantern out front showing its sign, East Side Inn.
The guards hurried about, and she heard Sébastien barking orders. She pulled up her cloak collar to cover her chin and mouth, and secured her small bag of belongings over her shoulder then tightened her gloves. Her nose had transformed to ice, and she wondered if it was still there, numb as it had become.
Antoine put his tricorn hat over his greasy hair, and sat up straight when someone knocked on their door.
"Yes?"
A soldier appeared and ushered them out, right into the powdery white substance that concealed the path to the entrance.
"Keep your heads low," he whispered, as he guided them inside the Inn. Once the door closed, he gestured at a wobbly set of stairs and disappeared into a side room.
Heat blew onto Céleste's cheeks, and she kept her balance as best as she could while focusing on the soaked floors. A scent of roast and potatoes filled her nostrils, but she didn't have time to dawdle about and request a bite. Or two. Or three.
I am starving!
Climbing the steps proved difficult, but Antoine helped her, ensuring she didn't slip and fall and break her neck. At the top, another man waited to lead them down the darkened hall. He shoved them into a stale-smelling room at the end, and sealed the door behind him.
"Where is Sébastien?" Céleste unfastened her coat, but didn't remove it. She spun on her heels, inspecting the area. She located a door to the left, a draped window ahead, a dresser and a single bed to the right. It wasn't fancy by any means, and she didn't expect to sleep there... but after days in a rickety carriage, she'd sleep on this Inn's floor if necessary.
