During the day they’d fed her special shakes and meals and at night she’d dreamed of Drakon, and the dreams had been so vivid and intense that she’d woke desperate each morning to actually see him. She made the mistake of telling Logan that she was dreaming about Drakon every night, and Logan had told their mother, who then told the doctors, and before Morgan knew it, the psychiatrists were back with their pills and questions and notepads.

Did she understand the difference between reality and fantasy?

Did she understand the meaning of wish fulfillment?

Did she want to die?

It would have been puzzling if she hadn’t been through all this before at McLean Hospital in Massachusetts, and then at the Wallace Home for a year after that. But she had been through it before so she found the doctors with their clipboards and questions and colorful assortment of pills annoying and even somewhat amusing.

She’d refused the pills. She’d answered some questions. She’d refused to answer others.

She wasn’t sick or crazy this time. She was just pushing herself too hard, working too many hours, not eating and sleeping enough.

Morgan had promised her medical team and her family she’d slow down, and eat better, and sleep more and enjoy life more, and for the next two plus years she did. She began to take vacations, joining her sisters for long holidays at the family’s Caribbean island, or skiing in Sun Valley or Chamonix, and sometimes she just went off on her own, visiting exotic locations for inspiration for her jewelry designs.

She’d also learned her lesson. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, mention Drakon again.

Those ten days in the hospital, and her vivid, shattering dreams at night, had inspired her third collection, the Black Prince, a glamorous, dramatic collection built of ruby hues—garnets, red spinels, pink sapphires, diamonds, pave garnets, watermelon tourmaline, pink tourmaline. The collection was a tribute to her brief marriage and the years that followed, mad love, accompanied by mad grief. In her imagination, the Black Prince was Drakon, and the bloodred jewels represented her heart, which she’d cut and handed to him, while the pink sapphires and delicate tourmalines were the tears she’d cried leaving him.

But, of course, she had to keep that inspiration to herself, and so she came up with a more acceptable story for the public, claiming that her newest collection was inspired by the Black Prince’s ruby, a 170-carat red spinel once worn in Henry V’s battle helmet.

The collection was romantic and over-the-top and wildly passionate, and early feedback had seemed promising with orders pouring in for the large rings, and jeweled cuffs, and stunning pendulum necklaces made of eye-popping pale pink tourmaline—but then a week before the official launch of her collection, news of the Michael Amery scandal broke and she knew she was in trouble. It was too late to pull any of her ads, or change the focus of the marketing for her latest Morgan Copeland collection.