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Back Princess at Heart Save as PDF
Chapters (49)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. The Rosewood Chronicles
  4. Dedication
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. Part Two
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. Part Three
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Author’s Note
  48. The Rosewood Houses
  49. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘OK, Goat Man.’ Lottie let out a long puff of air to calm herself. ‘This’d better make sense or …’ Lottie trailed off as she held up the picture. It was a photograph of a group of women she didn’t recognize. They were smiling cheerfully at one another and at the photographer. There was something familiar about their clothes and the background. One of the younger women in particular had a stern expression and a build that reminded her of …

Her eyes darted to the words at the bottom of the photo that were written in Maravish. Wolfson Palace female staff with their children, 2002.

She was wrong; she did know these women. The one who looked familiar was a younger Edwina Wintor, head of staff. There was also a short black-haired woman in a sensible maid uniform holding a serious-looking child, a child who was now all grown-up and worked in the palace herself. It was a baby Midori. And clutching the hand of a chubby red-headed woman in a matching dress and apron was a girl with a wide grin she’d become so used to seeing, Hanna, also a maid now, her face red and round and happy.

Eyes flickering over the photo, the room held its breath as her gaze rested over the last woman in the image, unknown yet entirely familiar. Once more her mind began to swim in the sea of disjointed clues, a herd of deer and a pack of wolves running along the edges of the room, and the whisper, over and over, of Ingrid’s voice. Why is Jamie your Partizan?

The unknown woman stared back at her with an intelligent side smile, dressed in dirty dungarees with gardening tools firmly attached to her slender hips. Her features were long and elegant, giving her a delicate appearance. Her skin was a shining bronze, and her eyes were gold like the stars at the top of a mountain, eyes that Lottie knew so well.

She knew who this was, like she knew the sky was blue and the grass was green. The question was, why on earth had Claude sent her a photo of Jamie’s mother?

21

Brush, brush, brush.

Every night before getting into bed Lottie brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror, a ritual that Ellie would watch from the door frame while she cleaned her teeth. It was hypnotic the way the yellow light made Lottie’s hair look like sunshine, the soft humming from her lips, and the serenity that overtook her features, except none of it was calm now, only anxious.

Brush, brush, snag.

Ellie wanted to ask her what was wrong, what she was hiding, but that meant getting close to her, which was dangerous, and besides it wouldn’t matter soon anyway.