Hohenfels

As Arne left the premises of Schwarzwald Hall, he noted with some dismay that Princess Charlotte’s plan was already in full swing. The residents watched him leave like carrion birds descending after a battle. The rumors would be starting already, especially once word got out that the princess had burned through a fortune in medicine just to meet with him.

‘How did Uncle phrase it? I got played like a damn fiddle.’

He made a mental note to have Katharina investigate whatever was going on with Count Lothar as soon as possible. Her network of gossipers would be infinitely more useful than his own clumsy digging.

With his bodyguards in tow, he briefly stopped by Falkenstein Hall to inform Matthias. The prince was predictably unamused, but the glee in his fiancée’s aura led him to believe that the two of them would make the best of it.

His next destination was Sonnenfeld Hall, where he made a point of staying outside the premises and sending Ferdinand to announce his visit and ask for Katharina. Soon after, she stormed outside, visibly seething underneath her bandages. Rage. Indignation.

They quickly came to the agreement that this was not the right place for discussion, and made their way to Hohenfels Hall’s meeting lounge. A servant brought refreshments, Arne dismissed his bodyguards, and Katharina took a seat suspiciously far away from him.

‘Probably Charlotte’s doing,’ he mused.

“What happened to you?” he finally asked, unable to bear the torrent of fury any longer.

“Where do I start,” she grumbled. “Princess Klara punches me, knocking me out for an entire night.”