On the night of the winter ball, I did not wear the Blackwood crest. I wore a dark gray dress with my pharmacist's badge pinned to the front. The newspapers still called me "the pauper mother of the wolf pups" on the front page. I folded that paper and carried it into the ballroom.Octavia stood beneath the crystal chandelier, flanked by the young lady chosen by the pureblood families. She began by announcing that the North needed a stable political marriage, then declared that the six children should receive "an education befitting heirs." Finally, she had a servant bring out a contract."Elowen Hart knew the reproductive risks all along," she said. "She hid the children only to demand power when the time was right."The nobles looked at me.Lucian stepped forward, but I raised a hand to stop him. My name was the one on trial.Octavia, however, did not give me the chance to speak. She had a photograph displayed showing me shackled in Saint Oran, then read the panic attack diagnosis al
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