The king’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Very well. The council may now pose their questions.”
Translation: time to test if Margaux was still the same spoiled brat they remembered—or if she’d somehow grown a brain.
Gods help us all.
The first to pounce was Alpha Heinrich, a wolf older than the castle stones. “Princess Margaux, do you remember the precise moment you were taken? Who approached you? What did they say?”
I braced. This was it. This was where she’d trip—
Marigold leaned forward, diamond earrings swaying, and delivered with a tragic sigh: “Oh, it was horrible, Alpha Heinrich. Imagine me—innocent, radiant, dressed in my silk Dior gown—standing by my car, when suddenly this brute of a man” (she flung a dramatic hand at me) “grabs me, throws me over his shoulder like a sac
