Chapter 8
At Chancellor Norman’s grand estate, the air crackled with tension as Luciana finished her story.
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Norman’s face darkened, and he snapped, “The Faulkners might be down and out, but they come from good stock–scholars, every one. How’d they end up with a bad egg like that?”
Luciana sighed, her voice soft but worn. “I only kept him around to be kind, you know? I was worried he’d blab and get himself in a mess. But… he just kept kicking up a fuss about leaving.”
Norman leaned closer, his tone sharp. “You’re only thinking the Faulkners were framed. But what if they weren’t? Taking in a traitor’s son could land you in deep trouble, Luciana. Good thing he’s gone before he drags you down.”
Anyone could’ve seen it coming–anyone but Edmund, it seemed. Or maybe he’d thought it once, long ago.
Luciana handed Norman a crumpled note from Edmund, along with an IOU.
“When he showed up, I thought he was a good sort,” Norman said, tossing the IOU onto the table, his opinion of Edmund sinking fast.
‘Carrying his family’s shame, and instead of clearing their name, he’s breaking things and stirring trouble at the princess’s manor?‘ Norman couldn’t believe it.
Luciana sighed again, looking hurt but too gracious to dwell on it.
“I’ve never believed the Faulkners turned traitor,” Norman said, his voice heavy with memory. “Harold Faulkner was like a brother to me. I can’t see him betraying the crown…” He trailed off, giving Luciana a troubled glance.
“understand,” she said quickly. “We’ve got to look into it. Edmund gave you the evidence, and you promised him, so we can’t go back on
that.”
Luciana was always so forgiving, never letting Edmund’s foolishness tarnish her view of the Faulkners.
Norman shook his head. “I’m getting old, always thinking of old friends. If the Faulkners were wronged, how can I just sit by?”
Luciana spent a while comforting him. She’d taken Edmund in partly to ease Norman’s worries.
Norman knew it, but Edmund? Too thick to see it.
Then Norman brought up the sixth prince–Luciana’s younger brother, the golden boy of their old life.
His face clouded. Francesca had three children, but Luciana was the steady one, always putting duty first.
The sixth prince Dorian? A spoiled, reckless sort who only behaved because Luciana kept him in check.
She’d even brought him to her estate to make him study. Rain or shine, late into the night, she’d sit by his side as he read.
Years of care, and yet he only ever called Juliette his sister. The day after his coronation, he shipped Luciana off for a marriage alliance.
No one knew when his resentment started.
Norman mentioned him now, hoping Luciana would talk some sense into him.
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She wasn’t thrilled about it, but she gave a small nod all the same. Honeyed words came cheap–pretty promises didn’t cost a thing–so she figured it best not to stir up trouble.
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Chapter 8
As she left the estate, Juliette swooped in, always ready to outshine her sister.
Hearing Luciana had been there, she worried Luciana was stealing her thunder and rushed over to snoop.
When she learned it was about that Faulker boy, she relaxed.
Juliette figured luciana took Edmund in to score points with Norman. But on this, she wasn’t competing.
Edmund’s name was trouble–nobody wanted it. If Luciana wanted that headache, fine. It’d only bring her grief.
Juliette had even thought about spilling the news to stir trouble, but then Edmund left on his own.
‘What a pity,’ she thought with a sly smile.
As she stepped out, her maid whispered that Edmund ‘had come looking for her earlier.
“What?” Juliette’s eyes widened.
The maid explained that the man Juliette had brushed off that morning–the one she’d practically kicked out–was Edmund. He’d shown up last night, too.
Juliette rolled her eyes. “Why’s he sniffing around my place instead of hiding at Luciana’s?”
“He was begging you to take him in, milady,” the maid said.
Juliette snorted. “Take him in? I don’t even know him. What’s he playing at?”
“Don’t worry, princess,” the maid said quickly. “We sent him packing.”
Juliette took a few steps, then stopped, a cunning glint in her eye. “Sent him packing? Why? Clean him up, get him some proper clothes, and
let’s hear what he’s got to say.”
That kind of trouble belonged right back with Luciana.
Meanwhile, Edmund huddled in a filthy alley, racking his brain for a plan.
Hours later, he had nothing. In his old life, Luciana had sheltered him, sparing him any real hardship.
He never had to think for himself–just followed her lead.
Now, broke, powerless, and tossed out of Luciana’s place, he hadn’t eaten in days. ‘What could I possibly come up with?‘ he thought.
Juliette hadn’t seen him, but he didn’t blame her. ‘Dressed like a beggar, who’d give me a second glance?‘ he thought.
The estate’s servants had treated him like dirt, not even passing along his pleas.
He thought if he could just clean up, put on decent clothes, and stand before Juliette like a proper man, she’d know him. She wouldn’t turn
him away.
Starving and lightheaded, he was lost in thought when a few men approached, dressed in the princess’s livery..
“Are you Edmund Faulkner?” one asked.
Edmund nodded eagerly. “Yes, it’s me! Did Princess Juliette send for me?”
The man didn’t answer, just waved a hand. “Come with us.”
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Chapter 8
Edmund didn’t argue. He followed them into the manor, his heart soaring. ‘I knew Juliette wouldn’t let me down. She promised to save me,
to take me in!‘
They led him to the servants‘ quarters, where he was roughly scrubbed and tossed a set of rough, patched clothes.
Edmund was still in a daze.
His first day at Luciana’s had been so different–a fine room, a warm bath in a cedar tub, the faint scent of wood and rose petals on the water.
His thoughts broke as the servants threw him the clothes. The dim, musty room smelled of mildew, and the men who’d splashed him with
cold water were already leaving with their buckets.
“Put those on. The princess wants to see you,” one muttered.
The word “princess” erased his disappointment.
‘Luciana’s all flash and no heart, putting on her sweet act,‘ he thought. But Juliette? ‘She wouldn’t treat me like this. It’s gotta be a mix–up.‘
He shook his head, pulling himself together. ‘No use dwelling on old wounds or falling for Luciana’s games again.‘
A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘Juliette wants to see me? That’s a sign she’ll take me in.‘
He believed, by her side, he’d be freer–truly himself–far more than he ever was with Luciana.
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