6 December, 1354. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
The moment she saw her husband storm into their presence chamber that morning, his face dark with temper, Violet knew.
It had happened.
The dam had finally cracked and the torrent was finally upon them.
So now she had to steal herself and face the consequences. She took a deep breath.
Her ladies-in-waiting, who had been quietly embroidering in a circle, all looked at each other in terror. Leo's explosive anger was well known.
He glanced at them and then jerked his head in the door's direction. "All of you. Get out now."
The ladies scattered and fled for the doors in a flurry of bows and rustling skirts. Violet watched, wishing she could join them.
"How much do you know about the fucking disaster your sister has allegedly gotten herself involved in?" Leo snarled as soon as the last lady had left the room and he'd slammed the doors shut.
