"Announcing the arrival of Lady Maribel Thorne, daughter of Duke Thorne!"
My jaw tightened.
Oh.
Her.
The girl whose eyes practically burned holes through my skull at the tea party.
The girl who stared at me, not Elias, not Clarisse not the cupcakes—me.
Why? No idea. And I didn't like unknown variables.
[Ah, yes. Miss Intense Eyeballs has arrived.]
Why is she late?
[Wow. Hypocrisy at its finest. You? Questioning someone else's tardiness?]
I am the Crown Princess. That is entirely different.
[Sure. And she's the daughter of Duke Thorne—one of the Four Dukes, niece to the king, and a walking disaster wrapped in diamonds. Rumor says she's beautiful, bad-mouthed, rude, and treats men like disposable bookmarks.]
Charming.
[Host, you absolutely do not want to get on her bad side. She collects grudges like other girls collect jewelry.]
Noted.
