"You're as stubborn as an old oak," Richard chuckled, lifting the glass with a bemused expression. "How am I supposed to keep watch over your antics when I'm tangled up with a flock of self-important nobles? After all, the marquess's daughter got herself injured in that mishap."
Her eyes sparkled with a wicked glint as she joined in the laughter, executing an elegant bow. "Well, then I shall venture forth and inquire about her well-being." With those words, she strode away, trailed closely by four maids.
"How is Emma faring?" The maids shook their heads in solemnity. "She remains unconscious, your highness." Meredith's brows furrowed as she contemplated the possibility of conducting her own investigation with Emma.
From the very outset, Emma had been a valuable tool, an instrument for carrying out unsavory deeds. Meredith found it hard to believe that Emma could have turned against them.
