“No, no — You cannot go into the ballroom looking like that.” Otherwise harsh words were softened by the other’s warm tone that filled the President’s bedroom like a hearth, melting the ice in her gaze and clipped tone that could freeze a mother’s heart. Oft’ had she addressed Rosalind Lutece with nothing less than contempt, turning her chin up at a haughty angle that rivalled the pride of Helen of Troy, brushing past her husband’s favourite as though she were no more than an irksome fly. Yet things had changed with the blink of an eye, prompting an unlikely alliance that had stemmed into something… More.
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