Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
As long as I lived, I would never grow accustomed to seeing so much food on one table, in one home.
And it was far too much, but Claude wanted to impress the Prince with a feast. I didn’t even want to think about how much this cost as I made a mental note to let the cook know to send the leftovers to the local Priory, who would know which families were most in need. At least what was left untouched wouldn’t go to waste.
“Where in the fuck is this prince?”
Across from me, the red-haired Mollie nearly dropped a bottle of champagne before placing it on the table. Her gaze darted from mine to the man seated next to me while the rest of the staff waited along the wall as if they were trying to become a part of it.
Slowly, I looked at Claude and took a deep breath that did very little to calm my temper.
He was sprawled in his seat, one booted foot resting on the edge of the table, mere inches from his plate. A diamond-studded champagne flute dangled precariously from his fingertips, glittering in the candlelight. At any given moment, the contents of his glass or the entire flute was going to end up on the floor. Or his lap.
I squeezed my hands together until I could barely feel my fingers. All my other many, many concerns had fallen to the wayside the moment I’d seen Claude.
He had not made wise choices during his afternoon spent with the Bower brothers.
My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it. I didn’t even want to think of what would go through the Prince’s mind if he walked in the dining hall and saw the Baron seated as he was. At least he wasn’t as bad as he had been the night prior. Luckily, no stench of the Midnight Oil clung to his white dress shirt or fawn breeches, but he couldn’t be that many glasses of champagne away from being three sheets to the wind.
“They should be here momentarily.” Hymel cleared his throat from where he sat on the other side of the Baron. He was paler than normal, and I thought that he actually appeared concerned. “At least that’s what I was told by one of the Hyhborn that had traveled with him.”
Claude huffed, lifting the flute to his mouth. “Momentarily?” He took a drink. “As if we have all the time in the world to wait for them.”
I wasn’t quite sure what Claude had to do after the dinner that was so pressing. Well, other than joining the aristo who had already begun to gather in the solarium and Great Chamber. But he could survive one evening being late to festivities or not taking part in them.
Reaching for the pitcher of water, I poured a glass and then slid it toward the Baron. “Perhaps you would like some water?”
He lowered the flute as he gave me a wide smile that showed way too much teeth. “Thank you, darling.”
I returned his smile, praying to the gods he would take the hint.
But of course he didn’t.
“You look lovely this evening, by the way.” He reached over, tugging gently on a strand of rubies. Dark lashes lowered. “At least I have something lovely to look upon while I wait.”
I widened my eyes as I reached for my own glass of water. Maybe he was closer to being completely useless than I suspected. My gaze fell to the floor. My gaze fell to the gold veining of the marble tile. It was the same flooring throughout the dining and receiving hall, as well as the Great Chamber. I turned to where Grady stood guard between marble and gold pillars.
“They’re coming,” Grady announced.
My stomach dropped, and I wasn’t sure if it was what I’d seen in the mirror earlier, Claude’s current state, or the fact that it was he who was coming.
“About damn time,” Claude muttered, thankfully drawing his foot off the table. He set the champagne aside.
The sound of chair legs scratching across the stone snapped me into motion. I rose, having momentarily forgotten that one was to stand upon the arrival of a Hyhborn.
My skin pimpled with the charge of energy entering the dining hall as Grady gave a curt bow, then stepped aside. The air thickened around us.
The first Hyhborn to enter was one with skin a rich shade of brown and dark hair shaved to a fade along the sides, leaving the short dreads along the top shaped into a mohawk of sorts. His broad, stunning features were highlighted by the neatly trimmed beard framing his jaw and mouth. Flames flickered above the candles before going completely still as he crossed the space. His eyes were like Prince Thorne’s, the blue and green more vibrant, though, as his gaze swept to where we stood, slipping past me and then darting back.