Ashlyn, her brilliant, last-ditch lie about suicide exposed as a desperate, cowardly maneuver, was left abandoned. Carlos, the man she had chosen, the man she had paid for with her own body, had taken a single, definitive step to the side, severing their alliance, and leaving her to face the consequences alone. She stood in the center of the room, her body trembling, her eyes wide with the terrifying, naked realization that she had no allies left.
Marissa's cold, mocking chuckle was the only sound. "I thought so," she said, her voice a soft, venomous purr.
She did not wait for Beatrice's permission. She did not need it. The Dowager had given her the authority, and now she would use it. "Guards," she commanded, her voice ringing with her new power. "Take the Second Lady to the central courtyard."
Ashlyn's head snapped up. "What? No! You can't!"
