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

into her robe, the door opened. I pulled back with a loud
exhale. What was it with people and not knocking?
“Well, then, I guess that answers my question,” my
mother said, looking between me and Adeline.
“What are you doing here, Maman?”
“I was going to ask you if there was any truth to any of
this.” She lifted the newspapers. “But I see it’s true. You’re
completely disregarding tradition because of a commoner.
Because of this girl who’s probably using you because you’re
king and that excites her.”
“Maybe you should come back when you’re ready to talk
and not point fingers and accuse innocent people of doing
things they are not doing.” I stepped forward, shielding
Adeline from my mother. She put her hand on my back.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not okay. My mother can come back when she
learns some manners.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My mother walked forward
and took a seat on the loveseat in my o ce. She crossed her
legs at the ankles and folded her hands over her knee.
“Maybe you should both take a seat and enlighten me on
what you’re going to do about this mess.”
I turned to Adeline, trying to gauge her reaction to this
idea. She shrugged nonchalantly and brushed past me,
taking a seat on the sofa opposite my mother, mimicking her
posture, as if she too was dressed in head to toe CHANEL and
not a pair of my sister’s tiny cotton pajama shorts, a white
T-shirt, and a white flu y robe. It was a striking image: two
women who, if I had my way, would hold the same position,
but were from completely di erent backgrounds. I followed
and took a seat right beside Adeline, setting my hand over
her exposed knee. I loved my mother dearly and respected
her like crazy, but I wasn’t afraid of her. I had a list of
nannies I’d cower to, and for Adeline, I had a feeling I’d go