“Who’re you calling a turncoat?” Trixie retorted with a cold laugh, eying the letter with mirth. “I thought she was a mongrel before that wolf proved it to the rest of the world.”

The former Minister, from what Trixie had heard, came from proper money, the sort nobody could take from you and he had as good a blood heritage as anybody could ask for. What kind of fool would throw all of that away for an inadequate wife who birthed children stupid enough to get themselves bitten by a werewolf? People ought to stay in their places, no matter how miserable it made them.

“Shall we see what she’s put in her love letter?”