I sat beside the Dowager Duchess, my heart thumping against my ribs. Despite her invitation to call her Annelise, something in her piercing gaze made me feel like a child about to be scolded by a strict governess.
"So," she began, her voice crisp as autumn leaves, "you've been Duchess of Thorne for several months now."
"Yes, Your—Annelise," I corrected myself.
She studied me with those sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing. "And what exactly have you been doing with your position?"
The question caught me off guard. "I've been adjusting to my new role," I said carefully.
Annelise arched a silvery eyebrow. "Adjusting? My dear girl, duchesses don't have the luxury of 'adjusting.' They must command from the moment the title is bestowed."
I straightened my spine. "I believe I've been learning rapidly."
"Have you?" Her tone wasn't unkind, but it was unmistakably challenging. "Tell me, have you redecorated any part of this house to reflect your tastes?"
"Well, no, but—"
