"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Atticus asked rhetorically. "I was asking a simple question― surely there is no need for such theatrics."
He lounged back on his chair as he shot Daphne a mischievous look. Francessa caught it and thought it strange, but then she had no time nor energy to worry about some little maid from the palace. Her life and fortune were in jeopardy!
Yet she could not move a single muscle to incapacitate herself. Her slamming her own head onto the table only resulted in giving her a headache before the king stopped her.
"Three years is a mighty long time. You've certainly managed to keep it under wraps very well, Marchioness Seibert," Atticus mused. His expression then turned serious. "Next question, were you aware that Eugene Attonson was secretly a criminal before entering a partnership with him?"