
The September lime avenue glows above Chelsea Hospital, where scarlet-coated pensioners argue beneath trees older than their stories. Three Sepoys, Marks; I have sworn it before better witnesses than you. You step into this one-chapter preview with Mollie Ward at the center, where choices turn on the people, promises, and pressure already in the room. The empty easel faces the window like an unanswered question. The chapter closes on a continuation question rather than resolving the novel's larger arc.
Read Mollie's Prince: A Novel