She bolted from the throne room, racing straight to her own chamber. The Duke's words echoed in her mind, causing a sharp pain in her chest.
"Marriage?" She scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Azriel, the devil himself, tying the knot? No way! He has an evil bone that'll be passed on to the next devil when he dies. So what's all this talk about an heir?"
Confusion clouded her thoughts. What was really going on?
Fuming with frustration, she barged into her room and slammed the door shut. This whole idea of a marriage was utterly ridiculous. Azriel couldn't possibly be betrothed to that Lady Vivienne or whatever her name was. The very thought made her blood boil.
She dramatically flopped onto her bed, her hands tightly folded across her chest. She was so furious that if you squinted, you might even catch a glimpse of smoke billowing out of her ears and nose.
