Beatrice had spent the entire day convincing herself she was fine.
She wasn't!
When she stepped out of the study, leaving Francois behind, the weight of his words pressed against her chest like an iron vice.
"You are not untouchable."
He was right, damn him.
She had spent so much time calculating, anticipating, preparing for things she thought she knew. But last night had been proof of something far more dangerous than a mere deviation in the story.
She was playing a game without knowing all the rules. And that terrified her.
But fear wasn't something she could afford. Not here. Not in this court that was already waiting for her to stumble
So she did what she did best.
She pretended.
Dinner was unbearable.
The king and queen were absent, leaving Francois to preside over the meal, his presence looming at the head of the table like an unspoken warning. The De Silvas were still guests, and Lady De Silva took it upon herself to gracefully maintain conversation.
