Beatrice had spent days trying to uncover information, but every lead ended in frustration.
The household staff knew next to nothing. They were either genuinely clueless or too loyal to speak.
Moira had been even more useless. The thought made Beatrice's lips curl in irritation.
That daughter of hers was becoming more disappointing with every passing day. She had been given every opportunity, every advantage, yet she could not even secure Asher's affection.
Sometimes, Beatrice genuinely wondered how she had given birth to someone so foolish.
She had successfully gotten pregnant to a Zuvel princess, but she got the wrong man.
If only Anton had been her father...
The thought surfaced often, carrying with it an old bitterness that time had never managed to erase.
Back then, she was young and naive enough to believe sweet promises.
That scumbag had told her she was the only woman in his heart.
