"Deliciously captivating! It's the perfect amount of laughs, love and drama. You won't be able to put this book down!" - Grace K @ HQ.
When Agatha becomes the Everard's governess, she's grateful for a way to escape her dark past. That is until her g...
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In a land not so far away, there lived a place that lived in the past. The Founders called it The Town. A peculiar name for a place, and its location made it even more strange.
Below the surface, the Town remained hidden, its secrets untouched.
Beneath towering cliffs, where nature's grandeur met human ingenuity, vast caverns were transformed into bustling towns. Here, the earth was sculpted into quaint villages and winding roads, while overhead, the colossal openings they called holes allowed sunlight and fresh air to cascade into the depths below.
Amidst this underground labyrinth, the Townspeople—nobility, merchants, and laborers alike—shared one goal: to navigate and survive the Four Seasons.
The Town's Seasons did not mean the gentle warmth of sunshine or the soothing patter of raindrops, nor the rustle of fallen leaves or the hush of snowfall. No, not at all. The elements aboveground would recoil from the dangerous cycles in the Town, because here, the Four Seasons meant war.
Each quarter of the year was a battlefield drenched in intrigue and ambition. A desperate battle for status and marriage. The soldiers? Manipulative mamas, eager debutantes, and reluctant gentlemen. Their weapons, you may ask? Dowries wielded like swords, gowns as armor (or the lack thereof as a strategic maneuver), the art of seduction as a dagger concealed in lace and sultry conversations, and the most potent of all: scandal. Delicious and horrifying, they poised to wreak havoc upon reputations and alliances alike.
The Sheills Season fell between July to September. Despite its reputation for lackluster balls and boring entertainments, this season held a promise of unparalleled romance.
The aforementioned season was merely a slow march to the least exciting one of all. Hosted in the most religious town, the Granville Season was the most restrictive. Gowns could never dip below the collarbones, not a single lady should traverse the ballroom without her gloves, and social decorum demanded a distance of no less than five feet—any breach of which would end in marriage under the condemning nose of a pious man. Only the most audacious and desperate souls dared challenge this season, and may their brave souls rest in peace until eternal damnation. Amen.
Hope would rise again at the start of January during the Willowfair Season. While parliament was in session, the mamas and their daughters would happily shed their dreadful gowns. These valiant souls, true heroines of social battlefield, plotted courtships and marriages in painful detail, from the shimmering jewels adorning their coiffures down to the silks around their dainty feet (sturdy soles for the endless dancing definitely much preferred). For those deemed worthy, the Willowfair Season promised enchantment if one could concoct the perfect dose of naughty and nice.
Yet none could dispute that the most anticipated and scandalous of all was the Wickhurst Season. Far more extravagant than the others, this was the occasion of naughty enchantments.
A lady should never attend the Wickhurst Season dressed in anything less than their rivals. Gloves, scarcely thicker than whispers, ensured that no man could deny the delicate warmth of a maiden's touch. Dresses were as light as the modistes could make them, because should a man be obtuse enough to overlook the tender caress, he surely could not be so blind as to miss the allure of feminine curves.
It was the season of many debutantes' dreams. And for many gentlemen, it was a hunting ground for bigger dowries (thin gloves and light dresses were not always the best weapons for those who could not employ them well).
While the Town Leaders convened with both Houses for the second round of the political game of the year, the rest of polite society donned their finest armor, discreetly wicked as one should be.
Scandalous, passionate, and furious marriages during the Wickhurst Season were not uncommon.
And rightfully so, because the second quarter of the year was the ultimate entertainment. After all, who would not want to bear witness to a delicious scandal? Even more so if the said scandal involved an Everard?
