Chapter Sixty Two

Edwina

I had given Justice two days—two whole days—to crawl out of whatever dark hole of a mood he’d sunk into before bringing up the subject of him and Princess Miranda. I thought I was being patient. Generous, even.

But things had gotten worse instead of better. People were beginning to treat us like outcasts, as though we were diseased.

I had no idea what sort of rumours were spreading, but they were working, because at work that morning, a few customers flat-out refused to let me serve them.

That stung more than I cared to admit. Their eyes had slid right over me, cold and dismissive, like I was nothing. Just a shadow. Just trash.

Because of that, my sisters and I were told to go home early. Punished for something we didn’t even do. The injustice of it made my blood boil. My fists itched with the urge to smash something, but instead, I carried that anger home with me, straight to Justice.

He was the cause of this mess, after all. And if it meant swallowing my pride to say it,