Theora barely reacted as her father jumped up to wipe the liquid from her fingers with a napkin and called the maids to clean up the mess. Silent, angry tears ran down her cheeks.
"...It was right in front of me," she hissed. "It was all right in front of my eyes, and I... I chose not to see it. How bad he was."
"Calm down, darling," the Duke whispered, gently holding her fingers in his hand.
He wiped her tears with his other hand, but they both waited until the mess was cleaned, new cups were poured, and the maids had left with the door closed behind them, to speak again. Theora was having difficulty swallowing the guilt that was knotting in her throat. She took a shuddering breath and glanced up to try to stop her tears.
"I messed up," she cried. "I should have... I f*****g shoul
