♦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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Settled in their lavish carriage, Prudence and Romain inched closer to the Giromian capital. To Prudence's pleasure, the captain of the guard had them veer east, away from Terter County, due to weather. She didn't care about the reason—the longer the delay to visit her fiancé's homestead, the better.
She was exhausted, unused to such lengthy travels. Most of the time she peered outside at the drastically changing landscape, sensing the benign frost turning into a blizzard-like wind. She watched growing piles of snow on the road, and cringed at each horse's gallop, sounding like crunches of broken glass.
She drew the collar of her cloak up and prayed for something hot to drink.
"Westten usually has cold winters, but the castle rests atop a steep cliff, so it is often cool throughout the year," said Romain, as Prudence glimpsed the dazzling white fields outside. "Up there we get snow often. We have a mountain-like climate in Giroma, unlike your Mediterranean-style seasons in Totresia."
She dropped the iced-over window cloth and sighed. "Northern Totresia gets cold, too. We definitely had an icy spell this year. I do not think I have seen so many coats in Torrinni before." Fog formed around her mouth and she gritted her teeth. "But nothing like this."
With a chuckle, Romain leaned into his cushions, unaffected by the dropping temperatures. "It will get worse the farther we go. Once we pass Geneburg we will swerve north, and that is where the most snow piles up." The torches dangling in their transport lit up his rosy cheeks, but their flames weren't enough to warm Prudence on the inside. "This amount of snow in southern parts of Geneburg is unusual."
Prudence had never seen the powdery white substance before her departure. She'd read about it in books while lounging in the plush Torrinni Castle Library chairs, sipping on coffee laced with brandy. Thinking of such a setting now made her long for the flames of a giant hearth and a thick rug beneath her feet.
"I dislike it."
"You will get used to it," said Romain, brushing back a few golden curls. "But if it grows too uncomfortable, I am sure we will rest between Geneburg and Badmin, to thaw ourselves a bit. Fear not; we will not freeze to death."
She wished she had a map of Giroma on hand. Romain brought up many provinces she was unfamiliar with, and she hated to appear so uneducated in front of her royal brother. She'd learned much about the country in her youth, but in such dreary traveling conditions she'd forgotten all her lessons.
"Is there anything specific you wish to know about Giroma, before we arrive tomorrow?" Romain's lips tugged into a smile. "I am happy to talk of it now, before its splendor overwhelms you. And speaking will keep our vocal cords warm."
She rubbed her hands together, trying to organize the heaps of questions flooding her mind. "Westten Castle is atop a cliff?"
The squire beside Romain perked up. He opened his mouth—then remembered he hadn't been included in the conversation.
