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Chapter 221 CHILDHOOD RESENTMENTS
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... , a slice of toasted brioche, and berries arranged neatly along the porcelain rim—when Paxton cleared his throat from a respectful distance.
“Luna Margaret,” he said, hands folded behind his back, “Shall I take Miss Seraphina some tea?”
My fork paused midway to my mouth.
“Seraphina?”
He nodded. “She has been in the pack library all morning.”
“The library?” I echoed, setting the fork down as nostalgia rippled through me.
He nodded again.
A s ...
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