“We won’t keep you,” Elise says. “We just wanted you to know we’re thinking of you. Both of you!”
Millie and I bow and thank them. They move on. A camera clicks. Whispers drift.
Alex is still here, watching me with thatinsufferable poise.
Those dark, piercing eyes—so like Geoffroy’s! Same Greek nose and flawless jawline, inherited from the old duke. If Alex had Geoffroy’s easy smile and charm, he’d pass for his younger clone. And, if his resemblance to Geoffroy extends to character, then behind that handsome facade lurks one ugly monster of a soul.
I return to the next mourner, accepting their condolences with all the grace and decorum Mother drilled into me. But inside I’m a mess. I can’t shake the suspicion that something’s coming.
Something I won’t like.
And it has Alex Castellane’s name written all over it.
2
EVA
The last guest leaves with a final squeeze of my hand and words of comfort that I promptly forget. I stand in the echoing quiet of Fort Vauclairt’s reception hall. My face hurts from holding the same expression all day.
Alex is nowhere to be seen. The awful man must have vanished the way he arrived—silent, aloof, offering nothing. Not even a token “sorry for your loss,” which I’d toss right back at him, both of us knowing we don’t mourn Geoffroy. He must’ve decided speaking to me, no matter how briefly, wasn’t worth his time. Why waste it on swapping civilities with his half brother’s widow, when he can go crack some hitherto unproven theorem or dabble in quant trading?
Well, good riddance!
Now that Geoffroy and Julian are gone, I hope I never see Alex again. No more awkward family reunions. No more forcing myself to be civil around Alexandre Castellane, when he’s so brusque with me.
“Eva,” someone behind me says.
I turn to find Pauline. She’s changed out of heels and into low boots, but she’s still crisp as ever in black slacks and a suit jacket. A lawyer first, a friend second.
“Have you seen Alex since the royals left?” I ask.
“Alex Castellane?” She shakes her head. “You?”
I smirk. “I’m sure he collected his condolences and left.”
To my surprise, Pauline doesn’t nod in agreement but fidgets uncomfortably.
“Fancy a drink in the garden?” I ask. “It’s still mild enough to sit outside.”
“Can you come with me to the library?” she blurts.
I blink at her. “Now?”
“Yes. Maître Duretwill be reading Geoffroy’s will.”
What?“I thought it was scheduled for tomorrow.”
Her fingers tighten around the handle of her briefcase. “It was moved up to fit everyone’s schedule.”
“Everyone’s?” I stare at her.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she averts her gaze and fusses with her silk shirt.
My hands curl at my sides. “I need to find Millie.”
“She’s already there.”
I close my eyes. Exhale. My ribs ache from the corset of protocol I’ve been wearing all day. Pauline waits. She knows me well enough to sense when I need a moment to get a grip.
