Someone was going to die tonight. I could only hope it wasn’t me.
“Goodmorning Anastasia,” My maid offered, before handing me a glass of water and a tray of toast. “Thank you Clara. When has the King asked of my presence?” I asked.
“In one hour. His messenger said he wants to speak to you about the feast tonight, then about where you will sit at the cermony,” Clara explained, before turning away...