Sarah's POV
The ceramic mug was warm against my palms, the steam from the hot cocoa curling into the air and disappearing against the high, timbered ceiling. Victoria had made it for me—extra chocolate, no marshmallows—and tucked a wool blanket around my legs before retreating to the kitchen.
It was nearly 2:00 AM. The fire in the great stone hearth crackled, a piece of cedar popping and sending a shower of sparks against the iron screen. In any other life, this would have been the pinnacle of comfort. But as I sat there, still clad in the wrinkled, ruined silk of my gala dress under the borrowed blanket, I felt like a wire pulled too tight.
The "meet and greet" hadn't taken long. There were only two maids—Victoria and a younger girl named Madison who had given me a shy, sympathetic smi
