Fifteen
Cecelia Porter
I woke up in the hospital.
My last thought before I fainted was that I might never get to kiss Marlowe’s lips again. I pictured us in the gallery, on the night that we met. Kissing so heatedly I was surprised that I hadn’t lost my virginity that night in the gallery. Delilah worried over me, and the Queen voiced her own concerns.
But I was fine, I assured them. It was nothing more than a panic attack. I’d had them before, and likely would again at some point in my life. Thankfully, the doctor agreed although he did advise that I stay out of the public eye for a bit. Just until I recovered my nerves.
But I asked to speak with Victor alone, because there was something important that I felt only the Prince of France might be able to help me with. Delilah looke
