Ariana POV
Luc and Irina softened at Ariana's words. Of course, they believed the heartfelt pleas came from Mireille and Sebastian Du Maurier, royal attendants. But still, they looked distinctly touched by the passionate entreaties.
"You two are treasures," Luc declared, lifting his noble sculpted chin, so like Dimitri's.
Irina leaned forward, sipping her brandy, wiping her delicate chin. "Indeed, your passionate defense does you credit! We're quite touched."
A sick feeling came over her.
How could she suck up to them? They'd happily visit the worst brutality on her and her family. Instead of fighting them with everything she had, she pretended to be Irina's friend. It was a wonder Dimitri hadn't run off to throw up.
Instead, he sat, cool and polished, the perfect valet. But in his eyes, she saw a chess Grandmaster. He assured Luc and Irina, "We know Luc--Prince Luc is innocent, and Irina is as well. She had nothing to do with these horrible murders."
