Tassia growled in annoyance as she barged inside her bedroom, ignoring the bowing servants who quickly stepped out of her way. She snatched the tiara from her head and threw it at the wall, but felt no relief as she watched the priceless stones scatter while the beautiful golden ornament clanked pitifully on the floor.
She took a deep, calming breath, trying to rein in her anger. She had been so close. So damn close! A few more seconds and that damn brat would have lost her credibility, and with it — all chances of sneaking into the good graces of her husband in case she got scared of her own allies. Was she born under a lucky star or something? What was with that perfect timing?
“Your Majesty.” Miriam’s voice came from the door and Tassia turned, locking her eyes on the short, dark-hai
