In Isadora's room, she sat by the window, her thoughts tangled. Why would Cedric do this? Why is he pretending to be Lucien? And why is he keeping me here?
Her mind kept circling back to one question. Does Lucien know about this? The uncertainty gnawed at her. If he did… then why hadn't he come for her?
The door opened, and Cedric walked in. For a brief, dizzy moment, she saw Lucien's face in his. The resemblance made her stomach twist.
She turned away slightly, muttering, "You've probably been drinking again."
Cedric didn't take offense. Instead, he smiled. "When we leave here, you should greet your mother."
"Mother?" Isadora frowned. "That's… strange. Why would I—" She cut herself off. His behavior was strange enough; pressing too much might give away her thoughts.
Cedric stepped closer, lowering his voice. "We haven't had our wedding night yet. You've been acting distant."
She forced a light laugh. "I just thought… maybe we should take our time."
