♦YOU MUST HAVE READ THE PREQUEL, THE GOLDEN PRINCESS, TO READ THIS BOOK!♦
BEWARE--spoilers in this blurb, for those who have not read previous books! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Kings. Queens. Princes & Princesses. Duchesses and Dukes. And... regents?
Eve...
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Chirps burst into Céleste's ears. She opened her eyes, and a slither of sunlight streamed into the carriage, blinding her.
Once her vision adjusted, she found Antoine perusing through a stack of papers resting in his lap. The window flap was wide open, allowing a breezy air to waft into the coach. His hair, tinted almost blond from the sun, shifted in the wind, and he scrunched his nose as he tugged at a few scraggly hairs on his chin.
Céleste wiped the drool from her lower lip as she straightened up. "Majesty?"
Her right ear was clogged, after having smooshed it against a straw pillow. To her left, Julia slept, her mouth hanging open, soft breaths leaving it.
The King hadn't heard her.
"Antoine," she said, insistent. "What are you doing?"
Without looking up from his notes, Antoine flicked his wrist at her in some semblance of a greeting. "Listing nobles I know are loyal to me. If we arrive and I have to dispute my crown, I must prepare." He shifted, readjusting his posture.
"Which means you," she yawned, and as she stretched her pillow fell into her lap, "believe your brother will fight you? He would heed whatever nonsense Terter might have sent ahead of our arrival?"
"I dreamed of it." He grunted as he turned over a page. "That bastard will support Jules." He looked up and flinched, remembering Céleste was there. "Sorry. Getting caught up. Good morning."
Her brows jolted up. "Good morning?" She leaned forward to keep out of Julia's earshot. "I wake to see you going through your supporters to prepare for conspiracies against you and to denounce folks who may manipulate your brother, and you call that a good morning?"
At first, Antoine seemed ready to laugh at her wit; but then he curled his lip as he returned to his papers. "No, it is not good, you are correct. But as King I must anticipate any eventuality. Your betrothed, were he here, would agree."
Julia fidgeted, emitted a snort-like snore, then pushed herself deeper into her cushion.
"Should you not wait until we are somewhere safer to formulate?" Céleste peeked out the window and shivered. "We are too out in the open, no?"
He slammed his palm onto the papers, nearly crunching them. "It cannot wait. Cornelius hungers for blood, ogles Giroma, might spread discord among my people, and has his sights on alliances with a general we all despise. If I do not clear my thoughts and write these names down and debate these ideas, I will lose my mind." He blew out his cheeks. "Schwartz likely has years of scheming in his pocket, whereas I am only now discovering all this. How long do you think he has been planning this?"
She raised her hands in surrender. "I do not disagree. For all he knows, you did die. He did not linger in Westten to check, so he may think he is doing the right thing." A sickening warmth wrapped around her lungs and squeezed, draining the life from her. "Dreadful as he is, he would view himself as some sort of hero, no?"
