The Queen Regent’s voice was as spoiled wine. Inviting on the surface, poisonous underneath. Marceline wanted nothing to do with her, but as she turned to avoid the impending – and undoubtedly unpleasant – conversation, she could not help but be caught by the wretched woman’s words as she spoke to the Dowager Duchess Wilhelmina.
“Have you heard my news, Hela? No? Then prepare to congratulate me, for I have it on most excellent authority that my son and his lovely bride will welcome a son before the year is out.”
Marceline froze in her tracks. No one was supposed to know.
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