The sharp, rhythmic rapping against the wood of her bedpost still echoed in Evangeline's ears as her handmaids swarmed around her in the chamber like a colony of panicked ants. The sudden imperial decree hung over the room like an executioner's blade: Lady Evangeline was to present herself at the imperial wing immediately.
But the true anomaly—the detail that turned Evangeline's blood into liquid ice—was the attached addendum: she was ordered to bring her jester along with her.
The handmaids pulled the silk laces of her heavy velvet gown, drawing them tightly. This sudden, violent constriction of the heavy royal corset pressed mercilessly against her skin, instantly flaring the pain right over those bare red marks and dark bite marks that Silver had branded onto her thighs and chest only a few hours prior.
