[Lavinia's Pov]
It's been exactly eight days, thirteen hours, and… possibly four minutes since I arrived back from Nivale, and let me tell you something—
The palace has been nothing short of a dramatic theatre production... ON FIRE.
The whole week?
CHAOS.
Pure, unfiltered, head-scratching, maid-squealing, noble-sighing chaos.
Why?
Because.
The elf-trafficking scumbags got caught.
Apparently, while I was busy trying to convince Nanny to give me three extra honey tarts (she didn't), Grand Duke Regis, Ravick, and my forever-serious (and forever handsome—he says so himself) Brother Soren rescued the kids.
And later...Papa personally interrogated them.
And by "interrogated," I don't mean, "Tell me your name, villain!" with stern eyes and a little slap on the table.
No, no, no.
I mean—
BOOM. CRACK. THUD. SPLASH.
