Forty-Two:
Cecelia Porter
I was back at Versailles.
I begged and pleaded with Victor and he wouldn’t listen. Even though I’d come, he was still going to fight Marlowe. After talking with Victor, I went to my room. The prison. The gilded cage. I was standing in there looking around my surroundings when I heard a sound.
The sound of rocks scattering across the window. My heart thumping across my chest, I ran to it, flinging it open. The last time this had happened, it had been Victor at my window. He’d wanted to take me to the library to look at the other heartbreak painting. The painting that had started all of this trouble.
This time, I knew it wouldn’t be Victor. Instead, it was Marlowe. He looked perfect as ever, if a little rumpl
