Everyone expected Alistair to be crushed by the loss of his status as Crown Prince, but to their astonishment, he acted utterly indifferent. With deliberate care, he gathered the charred remains into his arms and marched straight into his private chambers without a backward glance.
Palace servants whispered like rustling leaves in autumn.
"Has Prince Alistair lost his wits? Does the throne mean nothing to him now?"
"If he knew it would come to this, why did he let that Darcy woman torment Madam Josephine all those years?"
Rumors swirled through the capital like windblown petals, eventually drifting into the Chancellor's secluded courtyard.
Josephine was decanting plum wine when the news reached her. Her hands shook violently, and the jar clattered in shards at her feet.
She offered q
