♦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...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
[TRIGGER WARNING—this chapter has some parts that may be difficult to read, especially compared to the majority of chapters in this series. Please, be forewarned.]
The flames felt so close they threatened to scorch Céleste's coat and burn her hood to cinders.
Gone were her moments of shivering from the snow; the snow had melted, and the brisk cold had turned insufferably hot.
The Westten Castle was on fire, and Prudence's mother was apparently still inside.
"Did she not leave earlier?" Céleste dove sideways to avoid smashing into a woman running out. "We heard of carriages departing, was she not in one of them?"
"She was supposed to stay here and wait for me," said Prudence, side-swerving to not bump into a man carrying a bundle of rags. "So she must be in here!"
Feet before the threshold, and at the top of a few steps, they met with a wall of armed men who blocked the passage, only allowing folks out. Prudence groaned as she bumped into them, but teetered backwards as their armor barred her from going any further. Her hood fell halfway down as she stood straight before them and glowered.
"No one gets in until we control the situation!" said the guard before her, his face red and slick with sweat.
Prudence shoved into him. "My mother is in there! Where is she?"
Céleste had never seen her so frantic, her voice so charged with fury and fear all at once.
The armed man looked down at Prudence, unaware of who she was. "We are scouting the premises for survivors, so I am sure we will locate her soon."
"Let," Prudence pounded a fist to the man's chest, "me through! Do you not know who I am?" The man shrank backwards, but Prudence didn't stop. "Who started this? Are there casualties? What in the heavens is going on?"
The guard winced. "Who are you? We report to His Majesty, King Romain of Giroma. Or Her Highness Princess Prudence or Her Grace, Dowager Queen Pauline, in his absence. Which," he scratched at his temple, "seems to be the case, actually."
"I am Princess Prudence!" She tore her hood completely down, warranting a gasp from the soldier and several shocked squeaks from the others. They all perked up and inclined their heads.
"Apologies, Highness," some said. Others remained quiet, embarrassed for not having recognized their monarch's sister.
"Move aside!" Prudence glared at them, but with her pallid skin and her shivering shoulders, she appeared far from menacing. A child in lady's clothes, playing dress-up with her friends.
And yet, despite her frail stature, the men gazed at her in awe.
"Highness," said the one in front of Prudence, his earlier blazing confidence gone. "For your own protection, please do not bypass our warnings. We cannot forbid you, but we are not in full control of the fire, and some areas still burn."
