Marguerite, the former Duchess of Torrinni, receives two letters that will change the course of her life forever; and that will impact young Céleste Richel's life too, in more ways than one.
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When Marguerite is forced to return to Torrinni cour...
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She is gone.
The three-worded sentence imbued Céleste's brain, infesting her thoughts. Like the lingering bitter taste of medicine forced down her throat; or a sour wine fizzing over her tongue.
Johanna had said little else after the revelation, aside from demanding that Céleste say nothing, and if asked, to say that Marguerite was ill and only she and Johanna could visit.
She didn't give Céleste a chance to ask further questions.
The first day without the Duchess was the hardest. Walking soothed Céleste's mind, but so many courtiers intercepted her when she dared leave her room.
Several nobles she didn't know accosted her in the main first-floor landing. "Where is the Duchess? We must speak with her!"
Then the contenders, of course, clustered about, their questions ringing in her ears.
"Our Director is a Duchess?"
"She is a womanon the King's council?"
"Is she still the Director?"
Word of Marguerite's supposed exploits in the Meeting Room had broken free and flooded the hallways of Torrinni Castle. Since everyone knew Céleste was her lady-in-waiting, they hounded her.
"She caught a chill," was her standard answer to them all. "She needs rest and requested isolation."
A few arched their brows and eyed her with suspicion; but overall, the ruse seemed to work.
The lie didn't sit well with Céleste. Soon enough, doubt would spread with the rumors, and the contenders and royal staff would knock at Marguerite's door to check on her. Or Dowager Clémentine would demand entry. Did she already suspect something amiss? Had she already ordered castle guards out to search for her?
Sébastien wrote later that day, telling her he was swamped with King Antoine's work, "for reasons I am sure Marguerite told you." He asked her to send his regards to Marguerite and mentioned a Christmas Eve Ball to take place in two days.
How do I give regards to someone who is not here?
"How will I cover up her absence from that?" She tossed the letter at Johanna, who shrugged.
"Maintain that she is too ill to go. We have no other option, until Her Grace finds a way to tell us otherwise."
Céleste fought to sleep that night.
***
The following morning, she received her personalized invitation to the Christmas Ball. It was a formal affair for contenders, upper-class nobles, royals, and whatever foreign guests resided in the castle. Marguerite had mentioned it in passing.
