♦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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As she rocked her mother's dead body back and forth, Prudence wished she were trapped in a nightmare. As tears spiraled down her cheeks, she prayed this was all in her imagination. That she'd fallen asleep at the Inn, next to Antoine, while Sébastien and Céleste looked out the window, hand in hand.
But her eyes didn't deceive her, and neither had her mother's lack of a pulse. She was dead. Prudence had abandoned her, and Romain had abandoned them both, because of unfounded doubts. He'd run off with the person she mistrusted the most—and now, thanks to her mother's note, she was more certain than ever that Cornelius had caused this ruckus.
She would not have wasted her last breaths writing his hometown's name without reason.
And Sarah. Was she tied into it all? Or had she acted on her own accord, on some personal vendetta against Pauline? Because she'd poisoned the Dowager, that much became clearer by the second. But why? Who did she work for?
"Highness." A figure towered before her, reaching for her mother, but she squeezed her close.
"No." She didn't care that the bubbles escaping her mother's mouth had smeared all over her cloak and dress. She ignored the surrounding rush, the cries, the worsening smoke, as she yearned to hold Pauline one last time, to find some means to breathe life into her.
"Highness, please—"
"No!" She shot up, and her mother's limp figure nearly slipped from her grasp. The individual striving to help her was a soldier, and yet she refused to let Pauline go. "No, do not touch her! Where is my brother?"
"We are trying to reach him, but we must take Her Grace downstairs, preserve her until the funeral—"
Prudence screamed. "Do not say such things aloud, you foul-mouthed fools!"
A gentle stroke on her upper arm sent her flying sideways with a growl.
"Prudence, please." Céleste's soft gray-blue eyes settled her tormented soul, but she didn't loosen her grip on Pauline's corpse. "You must let her go. We need to get out until it is secure."
"Out?" Prudence sniffled as she peeked through the fog, towards where the entrance was. The blockade of soldiers had reformed, albeit smaller, and several men stood before her, begging for her to hand over her mother's body.
"They have yet to clear the castle, and the culprits shooting arrows have not been found," said Céleste, her voice a sweet melody in the violence. "But we must save ourselves, for now."
With a deep breath, Prudence permitted the men to take her mother.
Dead. She is dead.
"Come, Highness, Miss, we must escort you outside and to a safe place," said another guard, motioning at Prudence and Céleste to follow him through the haze.
