![]() ![]() Though he wasn’t really a prince, he was the firstborn son of the powerful and prominent Marquis de Blainville.Īnd without a doubt, the finest male she’d ever seen in all her fifteen years. Covered entirely in glass beading, Isabelle referred to them as “the glass slippers.” The last three times Sabine wore them, her Dark Prince had attended the play, her father’s theater drawing royalty and aristocracy alike. And it was all because of her lucky new shoes. The only place Father allowed them to be when at his comedies. ![]() The play was almost over, and she wanted to spend the remaining time watching her dark-haired prince from behind the stage. Tonight, Sabine wanted no part of her sister’s scheme. “What plan? What are we doing here?” Her ire was stirred. The very play that could be heard faintly, the actors’ voices seeping into the silence. ![]() “I have a plan!” Isabelle Laurent announced the moment she yanked Sabine inside the costume room at their father’s grand theater and slammed the door shut.Įlaborate costumes and colorful plumes, wigs, and props for the latest comedy, The Foolish Wives, filled the space. ![]()
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