Cherie’s visits to the palace had become a common and annoying occurrence.
Lily watched her arrive in the evening, a trail of servants following behind her. She had become royalty here—just as fawned over and pampered as the prince himself. But Lily had never sought out a conversation with the woman. So she was confused that evening when Samantha arrived in her room, looking a little frazzled.
"Ah…the madame wishes to see you."
Lily had been fastening a shiv out of a butter knife and thick stick of wood she’d found on her walk back to the castle. She tucked it under her pillow in a frenzy. "Me? Why?"
"I’m not sure," Samantha admitted. "Her chambers are upstairs…second door from the right."