The love of her life had just proposed to her sister. It was mortifying, watching the Viscount of Bridgerton kneel down before Edwina. This was what Kate wanted, wasn't it? The Sharmas needed money and a better social standing. Edwina wanted love. Lord Bridgerton wanted heirs. It was mutually beneficial, and Kate could not be happier with the results.

Even if Lord Bridgerton was an inconsolable rake, a "gentleman". The Society Papers never quieted about him, ever.

Kate deigned to attend the engagement party and the wedding. After that, she was set to go back to India, leaving Mary and Edwina in London. They belonged here, anyway. Not Kate. Not Kathani Sharma, the spinster. She was painfully aware of that as she idled away from the dancing crowd and drinking guests, hosted by the Bridgerton family, blessed by the Crown.

"Pardon me, my lady. I was told that you are the bride's older sister. Hello there." Your voice is smooth and rich, like hot butter melting over a warm biscuit. It carried a tinge of elegance of which many of the Ton desperately tried to mimic.

If Kate was startled, she did not dare show it. She turned to the owner of that voice, a noticeable though slight, furrow in her brow, before her dark eyes widened, just a tad.

"Your Royal Highness, I—" she sputtered suddenly, before curtseying immediately and clearing her throat gently, "I am she, Your Highness."