I took a shaky breath.
Okay, Liliane, focus. You are not here to faint, or scream, or collapse dramatically into Duke Tristan's chest like in those silly fanfics you wrote in middle school. You are here… to shine. To act. To—God help me—to outrun the doom that is about to catch up to me.
The Duke's low chuckle broke my concentration. That laugh. Ugh. It was soft, rich, and dangerous enough to make my knees wobble like jelly left out in the sun.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he spoke seriously. "If Lady claims she can make me happy… then who, I wonder, will make Lady happy? Your fiancé is right there, is he not? The Crown Prince himself." His dark gaze pinned me down, almost making me want to hide under the tablecloth. Honestly, it looked terrifying, but I... liked it. "So, how does Lady feel now?"
Boom. A straight-to-the-heart question.Goodbye, pulse. It was nice knowing you.
