“About to be late and get kicked out of this Godsforsaken palace before I even have the chance to spend one night in it,” I snapped at him. I so did not have time for this shit.
His amber brown eyes glittered in amusement. “So you don’t like the palace?”
“I mean it is certainly massive. But it is also a little over the top. One family, royal or not, cannot possibly need this much space.” The words were was out of my mouth before I could stop them. I inwardly groaned. I did not just insult the royal family in front of palace guards. Surely they would run and tell the King, or Queen or Prince himself and I would be dismissed from their lofty presence. Not that I would mind, but a job was a job and I had a contract to complete.
The guard smiled. It was bright and charming and would set a normal girl’s heartbeat aflutter. My own heart mildly skipped a beat and I was far from a normal girl. I did not swoon over random boys. Ever. No matter how incredibly hot they were, and this particular guard was scorching. Perspiration from the sparring match made his cotton top cling to his torso, revealing the outline of a nice set of abs underneath. And if that did not increase his hotness by a factor of ten, the way I witnessed him skillfully handle a blade certainly did. I may not be much of a sucker for charming smiles but I was for abs and a guy who could hold his own in a fight. He leaned into my personal space, startling me out of semi-inappropriate thoughts.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell the royal family,” he conspiratorially whispered into my ear.
His warm breath tickled my neck and I blushed at his closeness. “Um, the stairs?” I cleared my throat.
He flashed the charming grin at me again. “Take two right turns when you get to the end of the hallway and you will run right into them. I wouldn’t want you ladies to be late. Rumor has it the Prince might make an appearance at dinner.”
“But the Queen said only the final Elite would have the privilege of meeting him,” Emily nervously spoke up beside me.
The guard spoke to her, but kept his eyes on me. “I’m privy to the Prince’s inner circle and I am told he just may have found an intriguing reason to make an appearance.”
The guard politely bowed to us and gestured for us to continue on our way. I thought I might have heard a low chuckle and some comment about an intriguing reason to attend my ass from guard Jackass. But we were already too far down the hallway to be sure.
Chapter 7
For the life of me I could not understand why they bothered to go through the trouble of getting all us girls seated in the dining hall just to have us stand again to receive the Queen and her entourage. Seriously, was she that much of a narcissist? Five minutes into the procession my stomach was growling and we were still standing. Finally, five minutes after that the Queen waved her lofty hand, signaling to all of us lowly beings to be seated. This time, I did roll my eyes. I had the presence of mind to glance around after the act and make sure no one from the royal entourage saw me. Not that they would have noticed anyway. None of us had yet proven ourselves worthy enough to garner their attention.
That is when I spotted him, the guard, Zander, from the hallway. He sat on the royal dais to the left of the Queen. I chocked on the sip of water I had just taken when I spied the crown sitting atop his head.
“Careful, not to choke, Lesser Noble,” the pretentious bitch from earlier in the day laughed across the table at me.
Whoever was in charge of the seating arrangements was playing a cosmic joke on me. If they kept putting me next to her, she would not make it home in one piece. For now, I ignored her and turned to Emily instead. I nudged her with my foot under the table. “Look who is sitting next to the Queen,” I whispered to her.
Her eyes bulged out of her skull when she noticed. “Oh my Gods,” she did a terrible job of whispering back. “That is the guard from the hallway.”
“Only he’s not a guard.” I did a better job of whispering back. “He is the Crowned Prince.” I was so dismissed at the end of the night. Not only did I insult his family’s taste in residences to his face, when he introduced himself and asked me my name I practically told him to shove it. Shit. If I was getting sent packing, I needed to start thinking about an alternative route to assassinate the Prince. That would definitely throw a wrench in my completing my assignment in a timely manner, which would make neither Samael nor my benefactor happy. Shit. Shit. Shit. I had never fumbled on a contract before. Emily kicked me, hard, in my shin under the table. The sudden pain caused me to jump a little. Little Miss Bitchface smirked at us across the table. My roommate and I were so going to have a lesson in the art of subtlety when we returned to our rooms. Even if I left tonight, it would serve her well in the future.
“What,” I hissed at her through clenched teeth.
“Look back at the dais,” she said much quieter this time. “Sorry I did not mean to kick you so hard. I guess I got too excited again,” she blushed.
“It’s okay. It didn’t really hurt.” I played my bruised shin off to make her feel better.
On the dais, the Prince stood up, but the Queen placed a delicate hand on his arm as if to quietly, but firmly deter him from his next action. They exchanged a few hushed words, then the Prince walked down off the dais. He stood in front of me before I actually realized he walked toward me.
“I see you found the stairs alright,” he flashed twin dimples at me that admittedly made me inwardly swoon a little. I tried to ignore them and their effect earlier in the hallway.
“You lied to me!” Once again words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was so flabbergasted by the realization that the polite yet flirtatious guard from the hallway was the Prince that I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.
The Prince looked taken aback momentarily, but just as in the hallway he quickly recovered. “It was more of a minor deception.”
His amber eyes twinkled with mischief, and I wondered how I could have missed that the eyes I looked into in the hallway were identical the Queen’s. I sipped from my water glass in an effort to appear nonchalant. In truth, my nerves were shot to hell and it was a fruitless attempt to calm them. “You know it is immoral to deceive people, right?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “That depends on which god’s religion you follow. Loki was a trickster god.”
“That’s funny. I didn’t peg you for a Loki follower.” I did not believe for one minute he paid homage to the trickster god. He just wanted to argue a point.
“I don’t. I just like to be well versed on the teachings of all the gods. It makes it easier to argue a point or play devil’s advocate when people start conversing about religion or morality.”
Ha! I thought to myself, interrupting him midsentence in my head
“What’s funnier is you assuming you have me all figured without knowing me,” I caught the end of his sentence.
I gave him my best I’m immune to your Princely charms look and sweetly smiled up at him. “I know all I need to know about you, Your Highness.” I was trying to annoy him as much as his deception annoyed me. It wasn’t working out too well. That damn dimpled grin never left his face.
“Really? I’d love to hear what you think you know. Unfortunately, I will have to wait. My mother is about to have an aneurism up on her dais. If I do not excuse myself from talking to you soon she’ll be sending guards my way to do it for me, and that will not end well for them. I suppose I’ll play the good son today and do as she wishes to avoid making a scene and scandalizing you. Though, something tells me, My Lady, you’re not the type to be easily scandalized.” He winked at me.
I folded my arms across my chest in a display of false attitude. “Apparently, you think you have me figured out as well.”
“I’ve learned enough. Perhaps we can swap observations at some point. I hope to see you again, soon, Skyler. Try not to get lost on your way back,” he threw the last bit over his shoulders and chuckled as he walked away.
I envisioned myself throwing a dinner roll at the bac
k of his head. If I were not concerned about blowing my cover, I would have. His mother’s guards couldn’t take me either.
“I can find my way back just fine,” I muttered to myself.
The realization that the two of us had not been alone in the dining room while during our rather awkward exchange hit me as awareness of my surroundings flooded my consciousness. I looked around at the ninety-nine other girls then at the Queen and her entourage on the dais. The silence was deafening. Every set of eyes in the room zeroed in on me. I sat on the receiving end of the gamut of stares from envious, to outraged, to flabbergasted, to outright jealous. I looked down at my water and took a sip of it from my glass. All at once the formal dining hall broke out in chatter.
Chapter 8
The excited chatter continued throughout dinner. It did not quiet until the Queen stood again to address them. “Ladies, with the conclusion of dinner comes the end of the first trial. A Princess and future Queen must be able to groom and dress oneself in a manner befitting of a royal. Therefore, you all were judged tonight on the sole basis of your appearance and chosen attire. Nothing short of the most beautiful young lady in the kingdom is good enough for the heir of the House of Roth. The fifty girls who were deemed to be the least aesthetically appealing will find their bags waiting outside their rooms when you all retire from the formal dining hall. There will be carriages waiting outside the High Palace to return you to your homes. For the fifty girls who will remain with us, breakfast shall be served at seven am sharp. The morning is yours to do with as you please. The next trial will commence at two o’clock in the afternoon. I bid you all farewell.”
At the end of her speech, the Queen exited the dais and left the dining hall with her entourage in tow. Most of the girls decided to linger in the dining room and gossip amongst themselves. I am pretty sure their real reason for staying was to put off what was inevitable for half of the princess hopefuls for as long as possible. If I was one of the fifty deemed too aesthetically unappealing, I needed to know sooner rather than later. The more time I had to come up with an alternative assassination plot the better.
As I made my exit out of the dining hall, a real palace guard intercepted me.
“Lady Alastair, Your Highness requested that I escort you to your rooms when you were ready to leave.” The respectful bow of his head did nothing to abate the scathing look I gave him.
“That will not be necessary, Sir. Please inform, Your Highness, that I am capable of making my way to my room on my own.”
His apologetic look told me he was not budging. “I apologize, My Lady, but I have my orders.” He motioned with his arm for me to lead the way.
Thank the Gods for small victories. At least he left me with a little dignity. I sighed and allowed him to follow me. I suppose one did not ignore a direct command of the Crowned Prince if one wanted to keep his station, or more importantly his head. The House of Roth had quite a reputation for their lack of mercy.
I reached my rooms to find neither Emily’s nor my belongings sitting outside our door. Now that I was alone, I allowed myself to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. The whole ordeal was one huge sexist, shallow, demeaning process. The fact that women were being reduced to what they wore, how they looked, and whether they behaved as a suitable wife made me sick to my stomach. It also made me think a great deal less of the boy I met who claimed to be a palace guard now that I knew he was the Crowned Prince. What kind of person went along with such an offensive custom?
Chapter 9
I nearly made it to dreamland when I heard a way too perky voice shuffle into the room.
“Oh my Gods, Skyler, you will never believe what I found out after you left!”
“Tell me in the morning,” I grumbled without opening my eyes.
“I can’t wait. This is way too juicy. You have to wake up now.”
I briefly wondered if I suffocated my roommate with the pillow I was sleeping on would that disqualify me from the competition? Then again, I could dispose of the body under the cover of night and feign ignorance in regards to knowing her whereabouts.
“Come on, Skyler, wake up.” She actually shook me. Did she seriously not know how close she was to not seeing the sunrise?
“Skyler,” she started up again.
I sat up and smacked her in the face with a pillow. It was a small concession to smothering her with it. “Fine!” I shouted. “I’m up. Tell me whatever it is you feel is so urgent so I can go back to sleep.”
She blinked, surprised at my sudden moodiness. I swear I saw a tear threatening to fall. Gah! Why me? I thought to myself. “I get grouchy when woken up out of my sleep,” I said by way of apology.
“It’s okay. I understand,” she sniffed.
I patted the bed beside me. “Have a seat and spill whatever it is that is so juicy.”
I smiled at her.
She smiled back.
Good, I abated the waterworks for a third time that day.
“So the heart stopping blonde sitting at our table was Iliana Camille from the House of Van Pennington. It is the richest and most powerful house in Anthame next to the House of Roth. She was so pissed that the Prince completely ignored her and talked to you that she let it slip that she was the Queen’s favorite to win the competition. She said this whole thing is rigged and Queen Elianora made a bargain with her family for her to wed the Prince. How unfair is that?” Emily pouted as she flopped back on the bed. “What is the use of even having a competition, if the winner has already been selected?”
I smiled patiently at her. “Because the competition is as old as the kingdom of Anthame itself and far be it from the perfect House of Roth to not honor an age old tradition. What would the noble families think?” I mimicked the Queen’s haughty and condescending voice so perfectly you might have thought she was in the room.
Emily looked at me scandalized, then burst into a fit of giggles. I dissolved into my own fit alongside her. What did I care that the competition was fixed for Iliana to win? I only needed to make it to into the Elite to fulfill the job I’d come to the palace for. In a twisted way, it made the situation even more comical. For all the scheming and backdoor deals the Queen did with the House of Van Pennington, it wasn’t going to do her or poor Iliana any good. A dead prince couldn’t take a bride.
Chapter 10
Emily tried to wake me for breakfast the next morning, but I threatened to do more than launch a pillow at her face if she did not leave me alone. She heeded my threat and left for breakfast by herself. An hour later, a knock at the door woke me up out of my sleep again. I tugged the knife loose I had lodged between my mattresses and got up to answer it.
“Who is there?” I called out.
“Room service,” a suspiciously muffled voice spoke through the door.
I shifted into a defensive stance, but kept the knife hidden behind my back. I flung the door open with my free hand. The Crowned Prince grinned at me across the threshold. His grin disappeared when he took in my stance. I quickly straightened my spine in an attempt to play it off. Women, especially women of noble houses did not have combat training, no matter how low on the social hierarchy they might be. High society women were born, bred and raised for one thing: to marry a Lord of a Noble House and produce an heir. The Prince looked as if he wanted to say something, but then shook his head.
“I thought we could have breakfast together,” his said by way of greeting.
Seriously? “Good morning to you too. And no, we cannot. I’ve already eaten. Breakfast was served for us girls at seven sharp remember.”
He gave me a look that said he did not buy my bluff. “You are just getting out of bed. There is no way you went down for breakfast this morning.”
I placed the hand not hiding the knife behind my back on my hip. “Says who?”
He pointedly looked me up and down. “Says the fact that you are still in your bed clothes. Though I have to admit, I don’t mind your indecency.”
My cheeks heate
d, but I narrowed my eyes at him all the same. “Why don’t you go find Iliana Camille of the House of Van Pennington to have breakfast with? She is the girl whose supposed to win this charade in the end right? Your hand picked bride-to-be?”
It was the Prince’s turn to look at me through narrowly slit eyes. “You should not speak on matters you clearly know so little about, Lady Alastair.”
Oh. I hit a nerve. Great! I expected him to stomp off in a royally, affronted huff. His next actions came as a complete surprise.
“I think we started off on the wrong foot. Good morning, Lady Alastair. I would be honored if you accompanied me to breakfast in the royal garden.” His dimpled grin was back in place. The Crowned Prince had recovered yet again, though not as quick this time. He let the mask slip. What would mommy dearest think?
I started to ask him as much or respond with something else equally acerbic, but he cut me off before I was able to get out a reply.
“I tell you what,” his eyes twinkled with the mirth of one who knew a hidden secret only they were in on, “if you say yes, I will not think too hardly about why you have a near perfect defensive stance and are clutching a dagger behind your back.”
Shit. He had me there. “Fine,” I relented. I need ten minutes to get dressed and I will meet you there.”
“Great. I will send a guard to escort you. It is a part of the Roth family’s private residences so you will not be granted access otherwise. Do not be late,” he said in a perfect imitation of his mother’s voice that rivaled my own.
Chapter 11
Isat in the royal family’s private rose garden at a crystal table inlaid with gold across from the Crowned Prince himself. If my family could see me now, I thought bitterly to myself. The Prince’s voice pulled me back from the memories that threatened to pull me under.
Two-Faced (Assassin at Court Series Book 1) Page 2
