But Scarlet breathed a small sigh of relief. At least Matteo wouldn’t give her away with his incredulity. They began their ascent up the entryway stairs. Her hand still rested on his arm, but she began to regret her extra-large bustles at the sides of her gown. She almost couldn’t reach him, and her arm ached. She could turn her body slightly to angle closer, but that was awkward while climbing stairs.

She had asked Annabeth to cinch her waist extra tight, and her tiny waist benefitted, but her diaphragm could not expand to give her much-needed air. These very trifling details, for some reason, felt particularly bothersome this evening.

Pausing to catch her breath, she said, “I tire of the entrance to Carlton House. Must we make a whole journey of our visit? I feel that before we even reach His Highness, we have gone to France and back ourselves.”

“Would it be so.” Matteo’s eyes pinched, and he looked away.

She immediately regretted her callousness.

After their ascent up the front stairs, they entered the home into a grand foyer.

Indicating a set of ornate double doors off to their left, Scarlet said, “The prince keeps his private rooms on this floor in that direction.”

“Interesting choice.” His voice had lost some of its timbre, sounding flat.

She nodded. “Yes. You will see that most of the receiving rooms and banquet halls are on the lower floor. We will reach the next set of stairs to descend just up ahead.”

Brilliant gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, flames flickering with the movement of air in the room. As they approached the main hall, the backs of a line of people queuing up to enter came into view.

“He said it would be a small affair.” Scarlet sighed and slowed their steps.

Matching her pace, Matteo chuckled. “From what I understand, this is a smaller affair by Prince George’s standards.” He pointed along the upper walls, where murals lined the large receiving room. “Stunning bit of artwork though, is it not?”

Scarlet nodded. “Yes. Truly beautiful. He has more than two hundred pieces—several Rembrandt—and he acquires more all the time. I believe some of these were gifts from your own France.”

“I recognize some of the artists, yes.” He stopped in front of one titled White-Tailed Gnus.2 “This one by Jacques-Laurent Agasse—he was Swiss-born, but my father had one of his in our own gallery in France.”

“I would love to see it one day.”