Astrid Van Gravenberg stood before him, staring up at him.
His expression twisted before he could stop it.
Astrid saw it.
Her own face soured immediately.
What had she done to earn that reaction?
She had not even intended to speak with him. Camellia had been nearby, and Astrid had meant to join her after finishing a brief conversation with one of the younger ladies. Yet on her way across the hall, she had heard Ulrich speaking with the princess.
Not every word. Only enough.
Enough to hear Count Rubenhart speak to Camellia in a manner Astrid could scarcely understand.
He had told the princess she did not need to become the Queen's image.
He had spoken of her own wishes, of refusing expectations, of choosing for herself.
Astrid still had difficulty believing it.
Ulrich Van Rubenhart had said those things.
