Epilogue“Once upon a time,” Lyne read out loud. She stopped and looked over the crumbling collection of fairy-tales at Frederick. “I’ve read this before.”
He was sprawled on an armchair in his father’s—and now his also—study, long legs stretched before him, crossed at the ankles.
He was particularly suited to the room. Tall bookshelves with leather-covered volumes, New York Public Library reading lamps on the two massive mahogany desks, leather furniture; all dark browns and shades of cream and red. With his pale skin, and the copper accents in his hair glinting in the sunlight streaming through the tall, lead-paned windows, Frederick fit right in.
She was seeing him in his true element, here at Lansladron House. But there was more to it—he looked relaxed, as he had not in all the time
