When I returned to my chambers, it was to find Sabine standing sullenly in the room, her gaze traversing me from head to foot. I found my feet were unsteadier than usual, my limbs heavy like I was pushing through thick syrup.

Sabine wrinkled her nose as I stepped closer. I collapsed on the chair with a wince, my binding garments digging painfully into my ribs. I was desperate to be free of them.

"You smell like an uncleaned alehouse."

I lifted my shoulders in a heavy shrug. "You would know better than me."

Sabine frowned. "You're drunk."

I rolled my eyes. "Help me out of this dreadful thing," I replied, ignoring her tone. "I feel like I am going to suffocate. Why is it we wear these horrid contraptions?" I stood hastily. My head spun and I plopped back down, one red curl falling in my face.

Sabine arched a brow at me, but made no effort to help. I tried to twist my arms around my back to loosen my laces. I needed them off, now. They were too confining, too restrictive. I always struggled with them. I never quite managed to adjust to wearing bindings like Mother had said I would.

Like my sister could.

Annoyed, I hardened my glare on Sabine. She crossed her arms over her chest. Despite being dressed plainly in the grey and black clothing, she still somehow managed to appear more regal than I currently felt. Like somehow, we had traded places.

I hated her.

"What if I am drunk?" I slurred. "I'm the princess, and no one is here to stop me. So be a good maid and help me or get out."

"Is that a command, Your Highness?"

Her voice was cold and defiant and absolutely infuriating. I was so angry. It boiled in my blood. A soft whisper pressed at my ear, the ghost of a breath at my throat, wrapping its cold hands around me.

"Yes, go. It's best you try to act like a proper maid," I bit back at her, mirroring her tone. "Better servants have lost their heads for fewer transgressions."

Sabine appeared unmoved by my harsh words. She watched me like she would a small dog. All bark no bite. "Petty threats won't get you anywhere, Your Highness."

She used my title in a way that left no illusion of respect. My fingers dug down into my gown. My blood surged.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Blood pounded in my ears. My pulse echoed through my body. All I could hear was the increasing rhythm of my beating heart. Red bled into my vision.

Then it stopped. Everything spun, and my stomach turned. I was going to be sick. I sucked in quick breaths.

Soft fingers appeared under my chin. Sabine kneeled before me. Gone was the cold distant expression from before. She searched my face, her brow furrowing.

"Perhaps you should stay in this evening. We can tell them you are feeling unwell."

I heaved in a deep breath then nodded, shoulders slumping. The hot, furious anger I had felt a moment before had left me all at once, leaving me disoriented. The hatred I had felt for Sabine was gone and replaced with something different. A small coil of fear that pressed at the back of my mind.

Something had happened just now. Something I had never felt before, something I could not explain. A loss of control I had never experienced before. Even though I had left Rosailles, and supposedly the Angels, they still reached me here.

No... not just reached. The force was stronger somehow, the symptoms of my Gift amplified more than they had been in a long time.

"I'm sorry. I am unlike myself today." I turned to look back into the mirror, inspecting my current state, feeling like a veil had been lifted from my eyes. My hair was lopsided, one decorative painted rose hanging down by my ear. I tried to tuck it back into place, but it only fell again. I was a mess. "Perhaps it is best I stay in."

Sabine's dark eyes bored into me, seeing too much. My heart caught in my chest. Had she noticed my change? Had she been able to see what was happening?

If she did, she didn't say so, and after a moment she stood. She held out a hand to me.

"Here, come, let's get you out of those clothes. I think you need some water too."

I stood and she led me over to my chambers. My movements were clumsy and awkward, my limbs numb and hard to move. A silence hung between us. I gazed at her from the corner of my eye.

"Thank you," I said after a few moments of wavering. Her fingers brushed my neck, sending a shiver across my skin for a completely different reason. Her eyes flickered to mine in the mirror before quickly looking away. She helped me into some fresh bed clothes.

"No need to thank me, Your Highness." Her voice was stiff again. She started to turn, gathering my discarded clothes. "Let me go fetch you some refreshments. Something to eat."

I called after her before she could leave. "I was surprised you did not manage to slip into the Prince's chambers."

She paused, turning to me. "Well, Your Highness, the Prince only allows his own private servants in there." Her jaw ticked, making it clear that she didn't like that. "What made you think I would be present?"

I bit the inside of my lip. Why indeed. "Well since you were at dinner, I thought you might be there as well." I turned, cheeks reddening. Of course, she wouldn't be. It was just the wine making my thoughts muddled.

I sensed her still behind me. I held my breath, waiting for her to leave.

"Why, did you miss me?"

I looked up with a start. For a moment her expression was dead serious, then a smile cracked through, and I realized she was teasing me. The tension left me all at once, and I laughed.

"I might not be so inebriated if you were there."

Her smile shrunk away. We stayed like that for a heartbeat, gazing at each other through the mirror. My hair was down, my cheeks rosy. Lips still stained red from the wine. A thrill thrummed through me.

She cleared her throat. "It is one of the few places I cannot follow you, Ophelia," she said, her tone softer. Even though she had used my name, I did not correct her. I found I liked the way it sounded when she said it. "So, it is best to be cautious if you plan to visit there again."

I looked away. "Prince Pierre is a lush, I can see that, and I might have gotten a bit carried away tonight—I am not used to drinking much. But he is harmless. He just wanted to see me kept busy while Jourdon—" My voice caught and I swallowed. "While my fiancé is away."

Sabine didn't look convinced. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" I asked.

"How he looks at you." For a moment her eyes bored into mine. "He doesn't look at you the way he should. Like you belong to someone else." She tore her gaze away from me. "I don't trust him."

Heat flared through my body. In truth I had noticed. And I had not minded it. I should have though, I should have said something, pushed him away. Told him it was best I did not visit him again while Jourdon was gone.

But I hadn't. Nor did I make any effort to say so now. Because I knew I would see him again. Everything inside me longed too. To be looked at like that. To be wanted. Desired.

Pierre had pulled me into his intoxicating web, and it was only a matter of time before I returned for another taste.

"What should I do?" I asked softly.

"I can't say, Ophelia. That is for only you to decide." Her voice was tired like she knew what I was thinking. "Just be careful. The younger prince is playing a dangerous game, and I fear to him you are only a pawn to a greater reward."

"Seems a bit paranoid, doesn't it? He is just a man unused to hiding his emotions. He knows better than to try anything. He saw how the liquor affected me and ensured I returned to my rooms."

Sabine pursed her lips. "Indeed," she replied, her voice cool and distant. "But if he was so concerned, why let you get to this point in the first place?" She turned from me. "You can ask for my advice, and I will give it. It is up to you whether you wish to take it."

Behind me the door opened and closed, Sabine leaving to go to the servant's chambers. Her words echoed in my ears. She was just watching out for me, I knew that. I appreciated it really.

But Sabine hadn't been there, there was no way she could know. She didn't see the way I had been lost in Pierre's eyes and ensorcelled by the teasing nature of his touch.

It was already too late.