Ashlyn had just returned from her clandestine meeting with Prince Liam, slipping through the side entrance like a thief. Her heart was already racing from the adrenaline of treason.
She walked quickly toward the west wing, intending to hide in her room. But as she passed the intersection of the corridors that led to the master suite in the east wing, she stopped.
A sound echoed down the long, stone hallway. It was the sharp, unmistakable sound of porcelain shattering against a wall.
Crash.
Ashlyn flinched. She froze in the shadows, pulling her hood tighter.
Then came the voice. It was high, shrill, and vibrating with indignation.
"How dare you!"
It was Marissa.
Ashlyn crept closer. She pressed her back against the cold stone wall, inching her way toward the heavy double oak doors of the Grand Duke's chambers. She held her breath, her eyes wide in the dim torchlight.
