The little bell tinkled again as the cat rolled onto its wide feet and prowled over to Brietta. Brietta moved her eyes from the rug to the cat rubbing its cheek onher calves.
Brietta bent down and ruffled the cat’s fluff with a tiny smile on her face. Any anger I had left melted into a stale, grey sadness. The gilt of the furnishings around us betrayed how…desolate the Duchess’slife seemed.
As odd as it was, I had to give the mad Duchess some credit. She had shown us her most vulnerable form—naked, wounded,and honest.
Duchess Freya Hyton gave us the gift of an ugly truth in a world ofbeautiful lies.
I dared to look back at Duchess Hyton and met her sharp but kinder eyes as she looked over her bare shoulderat us.
“We are all trapped in the hourglass, little kittens,” Duchess Hyton chimed in a sing-song voice. She cut Brietta a look and flashed a smile a wolf might give a lamb. “Welcome tohell, meat.”
Brietta and I exchanged embarrassed glances across the splendid dressing room as Duchess Hyton guzzled down more wine and told us in excruciating detail how she sealed her blood bond withDuke Hyton.
“I used to be the fastest runner at Ashmore,” Duchess Hyton slurred as Merri laced up her dress. “But I could only outrunthat manfor a week before he got me. I should have just sprinted out of that damn pavilion on Selection Night and jumped offthe cliff.”
I stared at the pink rug beneath my feet as the maids put me in a linen dress perfect for a sunny afternoon. The dress was a gentle plum color with tiny blue and white flowers that I had stitched on the bust and waist—simple, but pretty enough that no one would suspect the House of Ravenwood had no money for finer clothes. My hair fell to the left side of my head and completely coveredDerrick’s marks.
Brietta was in a similar outfit. The borrowed pale blue dress had another too-short hem and mashed her breasts, but at least it laced up withoutany intervention.
Even after two bottles of wine, Duchess Hyton had completely transformed into the version of herself I recognized from the Presentation. With the help of a few dabs of paint placed with the precision of a master artist, her previously tired and pallid face was flush with vitality. She was stunningly elegant, wearing a flowing Hyton Blue dress and sparklingamethyst jewels.
Duchess Hyton adjusted her breasts in her corset and then signaled for us to follow her. She was drunk as a woodsman in winter, but she still guided us through the winding hallways as if she could escape the palace even in her sleep. We walked a respectful distance behind her as she stumbled down to the front of the palace where two Hyton coaches waited for us outside.
Lines of soldiers in their best brass flanked the sides of each carriage, but Riyan was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was busy terrorizing some of General Hyton’s other cadets like Grigoryhad mentioned.
Duchess Hyton instructed Brietta to enter the second coach and said I would stay behind to ride with her and General Hyton. The carriage designated for us was the grandest I had ever seen—white with golden accents and blue and white banners streaming off the sides andthe top.
As long as it wasjustthe Duchess and the General joining me in the splendid carriage, the ride to the city mightbe bearable.
Brietta left Duchess Hyton and I to enter the second carriage. She took the footman’s hand as she ascended the steps, but her slipper got caught on the hem of her skirt and she tripped. An arm reached out from inside the carriage and caught her—Derrick. Brietta’s cheeks flushed pink and she smiled softly as Derrick helped her insidethe carriage.
Creeping green thorns curled around my ribs, but I swallowed my feelings and stood beside the Duchess like a painted statue. I needed to calm down—whatever was in Derrick’s letter would reveal what I needed to do next. No sense burning oversilly feelings.
The noon sun blazed down on us. My chest fluttered in short and shallow breaths, but not from the heat of the sunny day. I had hidden Derrick’s message between my breasts and the parchment burned my skin like a hot iron as I stood next to his mother. I kept myself from trembling next to the Duchess as she fanned herself in the heat and mumbled about everything being pointless and how she did not have timeto waste.
General Hyton’s boots clicked on the palace’s stone steps and my heart skipped a beat when his brother followed behind him. Duke Hyton was as sober as I had ever seen him—his brow hard and his eyes sharper than arrowheads. Absolutely terrifying.
I stared at the hem of my skirt, hoping the Duke would not notice me. Duchess Hyton ignored her husband and clumsily walked up the steps of the first carriage with the aid of the footman, who guided her wobbling frame inside without so much as a surprised blink. I climbed the carriage steps and my shoulders dipped inward as I shrank away from theDuke’s glare.
“Damn it, Freya, you drunk old fool,” Duke Hyton growled. “You know how important today isfor us!”
I sat next to Duchess Hyton on the luxurious blue velvet cushion. The stench of wine filled the carriage over the scent ofher perfume.
“Oh, what are you going to do?” Duchess Hyton slurred with an eye-roll. “Charge me with hightreason too?”
I wanted to sink through the velvet cushionand disappear.
I glanced out of the open door of the carriage just as Annalisa ran through the palace doors. She was barely dressed, wearing a long-sleeved gown and slippers only—no trace of makeup or jewelry other than a lace collar around her neck. Grigory was right behind her, wearing his military uniform and grey cape along with his bow and a quiver of arrows on his back. Both Annalisa and Grigory rushed to thesecond carriage.
The back of Annalisa’s bodice was loose and the laces flew behind her like a pair of plucked wings as she ran. Duchess Hyton scoffed at the sight of her daughter and shifted onthe cushion.
“Annalisa!” Duchess Hyton roared, her voice ringing in my right ear. “Fixyour dress!”
The Duke and General Hyton ducked inside, the carriage rocking with their weight, and the door closed. With a crack of a whip, we were off to thecity square.
“Looks like your youngest had a grand time with the rat last night,” DukeHyton groaned.
“No doubt,” Duchess Hyton said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “You should throw her a ball for her greatest accomplishment as a woman: letting some untitled worm from the House of Thornebow crawl allover her.”
