Celeste wasn’t done. ‘I’ve known Rose Valhart all my life. I know her every expression, her sense of humour, her heart. I know her. And I don’t know you. You might be a good imitation but you are not good enough.’ She prodded Wren in the chest. ‘I’ll give you one chance, here and now, to be honest with me. If you lie one more time, I’ll scream for the palace guards and have you hauled to the dungeons. Who are you, really?’ Wren raked the damp hair from her face, the heat of her panic mingling with the steam. She contemplated lying. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ warned Celeste.
