Marie's POV
The car felt hotter than usual, even though the air conditioner was on. I sat stiffly beside Mancini, my hands folded in my lap. The dress the maids had forced me into clung to me like a cage. It was a cream satin, low cut, jewelry I never would have picked for myself. My hair had been styled for hours, and it hurt where the pins pulled against my scalp. I didn't mind my hair falling around my shoulders, but they said it was how Mancini wanted it. I don't know if he cared about how I put up my hair or not.
Mancini hadn't spoken much since we left the house. He kept looking out the window, his hand tapping against his leg. He was anxious, but I didn't dare ask why. I still didn't know where we were going. The last time I had asked him a question in this mood, he had snapped at me in front of everyone. Plus, the last time we were at a party, he was calling me ungrateful and humiliating me until I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
