The dinner had ended, but the bitter aftertaste lingered like poison on River’s tongue.
Back in the guest wing assigned to her family, the polished halls echoed with silence, the golden lamps on the wall casting long shadows. River walked in measured steps, her body stiff, her fists clenched at her sides. She tried to keep composed, tried to maintain the graceful image expected of someone soon to be mated into royalty—but inside, she was seething.
A storm had taken root in her chest, and it was rising.
What the hell was Isabelle trying to do? Her mind screamed in furious loops. How could she humiliate me like that? In front of the Queen. In front of Heiko.
River’s heart pounded as the sick realization slithered in.
She knew. She knew about Damon.
The memory of that hopeless time—th
