Anastasia and Marianne had stepped into one of the spare rooms, locking the door so no one would enter. Watching the tears fall from her elder sister's eyes moistened her own eyes, and she pulled her sister in for a hug, rubbing her back to console her.
"If I could, I would take your sorrow away," Anastasia said with a frown. "I am sorry that it turned out this way."
Nothing could be done about it, not even by Marianne, who had claimed that the second Blackthorn prince was in love with her. Being set up by parents was one thing, but fate bringing the woman meant to be Prince Maxwell's wife into his life was quite another.
Marianne's chin rested on Anastasia's shoulder as more tears spilt from her eyes when she closed them, trying to calm herself. Sniffing, she pulled away from her younger sister and wiped her cheeks. She said softly,
