So the lines remained drawn. There would be no reconciliation between the two women, shared heartache or not. “I’ve never sought your pity, as I never sought to cause you pain,” Eleanor said. “Nor will I ever, as long as I draw breath, forget your treachery against the crown.”
“You can’t threaten me,” Imogene whispered. “My daughter is the Duchess of Harveston.”
“And I’m the future queen of Cartheigh. You shaped that naïve girl who stumbled into the palace. You don’t realize you also helped me put her to rest.” Eleanor curtsied. “Good day, madam.”
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