The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

C H A P T E R 1 9
T
homas held my hand as we walked into the party.
I nearly jumped at the motion.
“If you want to make someone jealous, you have to play
the part.”
“I don’t want to make anyone jealous,” I said, but kept
my hand in his nonetheless.
He snickered under his breath as the enormous double
doors opened before us and my hand tightened in his. Even
though I’d just planned a party in Château de Versailles and
had been there as a tourist and stayed there the week of the
festivities, I didn’t consider it a real castle. It was a far cry
from the truth, with as many kings and queens and courts as
it had seen, but it still somehow seemed fake to me, like a
fairy tale, whenever I walked its grounds.
Palace of Fontainebleau was di erent. Although lavish, it
felt very real. Maybe it was because I knew this was the most
used residence. It was where they took their Christmas and
announcement photos. It was where the princes and princess
grew up. I tried to picture a childhood here, surrounded by
such grandeur, and failed. I couldn’t imagine scattered toys
or children running on these marble floors. It seemed
untouchable. Just like them. I realized that this was what my
mother and Etienne and Joss had warned me about.