Chapter 67: Anastasia

The door to the small morning room clicks shut behind us, cutting off the muffled sound of my father’s voice. Down the hallway, he is already on his third phone call with the public relations team, barking orders about press embargoes and wire distributions.

Here, the air is still and quiet. The morning sun is trying to push through the clouds, casting a pale light across the wooden floorboards and the two empty armchairs by the cold hearth.

I lean my back against the closed door, letting out a breath I feel like I have been holding since last night. My shoulders sag. The adrenaline that kept...