**THE BRAZEN SERIES is part of the GOLDEN UNIVERSE**
♦YOU MUST HAVE READ BOOK ONE, A BRAZEN MAIDEN, TO READ THIS SEQUEL!♦
♦♦It is ALSO recommended that you read THE GOLDEN GIRL/DUCHESS/PRINCESS & QUEEN to better understand events in this novel, as...
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♪ Forgiveness, it isn't for you The forgiveness is for me ♪ {Mandy Moore—Forgiveness}
She is going to kill me. Or fire me. Or both.
It wasn't like Johanna to fear for her employment, especially since Sir Thatcher no longer oversaw the manor. She'd been wary under Dowager Clémentine's rule, but after serving Marguerite for so long she learned how to dodge punishment and be witty.
Writing to Prince Jules hadn't been witty, not as much as she'd initially thought. But how could she have guessed he'd arrive in the dead of night and barge into Harriet's room like that?
Never did she anticipate she'd be like a frightened infant entering the Council Room, prudent of Harriet's scrutiny. Harriet—the sweet child she'd been so close to as a youth, the girl she'd felt responsible for at the Academy, the one she'd reprimanded... was about to reprimand her.
"Please, sit," said Harriet, gesturing at the seat Prince Jules had vacated only moments before. She herself remained standing, her back arched and stiff, her expression hard to read.
Johanna's legs jiggled as she took slow strides to the chair, biting her lip, clutching at her skirts for dear life. She and Harriet hadn't exchanged heated words in a while—not since she had caught Harriet sneaking around at the Academy and had to raise her voice to warn her. But now, the situation was reversed; Johanna was the one in danger, the one taking risks. And she couldn't lose this position, couldn't be sent back to the castle, not without Marguerite, Prudence, there to protect her. Everyone in the kitchens would glower at her, mock her for ruining her chance at escape, and give her the worst possible tasks.
I cannot let that happen... Harriet must pardon me.
Trying not to draw blood from how hard she jammed her teeth into her lower lip, Johanna sat. "Miss, I—"
"—Harriet. We are alone, and we are friends." Though her voice was calm, Harriet's eyes were stern, their grassy green awash with caution. "And it is as a friend that I wish to speak to you."
Clasping her twitching hands in her lap, Johanna inhaled, bracing for the lengthy speech she'd been rehearsing since the second she woke that morning. The excuses, the desperate apologies, the justification for why she'd accidentally summoned the Prince, why she'd written him a letter she didn't expect he'd reply to in person, at least not so quickly. "Forgive me, please. I should have stopped myself, should have known that he was the impulsive Prince, the irresponsible one, and that he would jump atop a horse and ride here. Please, Harriet, do not be angry—"
Harriet's high-pitched, off-putting chuckle halted Johanna's practiced words. "I am not angry, only... conflicted. Confused. I thought I was the sneaky one, slinking through the shadows at school to avoid you." She shook her head. "But you are better at that game, it appears. Why would you write to him about my troubles? If you saw me as stressed, why did you not tell me of your concerns? Was it necessary to drag him here, far from home, from his real duties?"
