Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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“Worry not over what they say, for you are Lady Hathor Du Bell, an honest, upright young lady from one of the greatest families,” she reminded me and smiled. I looked at her in the mirror only to be met with the sight of myself again.

“Thank you, Bernice, can you repeat that again when I do not look horrendous?”

She laughed as she began to work on my hair. “Of course, my lady.”

Knock. Knock.

“Enter.”

When the doors opened, I saw the blonde curls of…Devana.

“I am merely checking on you,” she said.

“Bernice, can you give us a moment—”

“No, it is all right, Mama will be upset if you are late. We will talk later, yes?” she said gently.

“I promise,” I said back to her as she left.

I truly was a mess. My insides and my outsides were just…chaos, no matter how I sought to better myself or my situation. I could feel myself growing dejected and truly did not wish to spend any more time being so.

“I must look stunning today, Bernice, let us spare nothing.” I would regain control of the situation I was in, firstly by making it abundantly clear to everyone that I was not going to be that horrid man’s princess, and secondly by securing the attentions of other suitors. We’d spend most of the morning and afternoon entertaining upon the castle grounds; I’d surely have the upper hand.

* * *



Seventy-two minutes and three outfit changes later, I had finally managed to make it outside. Though it was my fastest time yet…it still was not fast enough to compete with all of the other young ladies who were already out bright and early, clearly awaiting an ill-mannered prince. I glanced down at my bag, making sure I had brought my art supplies with me, when I heard someone call out.

“Good morning, Hathor, I must say we were not expecting you to be out so early,” Mary said as she approached me from the right side, dressed in soft pink with a matching parasol. Beside her was of course Amity, who stood in a deep green dress, also with a parasol.

“And why is that?” I asked.

“Well, if I had been so utterly rejected as you were last night, I do not think I would show my face for days,” Amity said. It looked like she desperately wished to laugh at me.

“Amity, when you possess a face as fine as mine, I believe it is rather insulting not to showcase it,” I said with a smile.

“Hm,” Mary scoffed. “Is it fine or is it duplicitous? One moment you are claiming you do not wish for Prince Wilhelm’s attentions at all and the next you two are sharing glances. I saw how you both looked at each other last night.”

I wished to scream to the sky, but since everyone was now coming out for the morning, all I could say was “You are free to believe whatever you wish about my face, Mary, but do know I shall not think of yours at all. Now, if you will excuse me, I am expected at the stables.”

I did not wait for another word before turning from her and walking as fast as I could without looking as though I were running away.

“Stay calm, Hathor. Stay calm,” I muttered to myself the whole way to the stables. I took deep breaths, and tried to think of positive things, like how I’d make a magnificent countess. I’d be able to host a great many balls, like Mama, go to court, and paint whatever and whenever I pleased. I’d have a peaceful and happy life. The more I thought of it, the more my mood improved.

“Lady Hathor, good morning.” Mr. Johnathon, the stableman, bowed his head to me. “I have your horse here.”

“Good morning, Mr. Johnathon,” I said as I walked up to my horse just outside the stable and tapped the white patch on her nose twice, making her brush up against my face—a trick I had taught her. “Good morning to you, too, Sofonisba.”

“She’s in good spirits this morning, my lady. I’m sure she is excited for the exercise,” he said, petting the side of her neck cheerfully.

“No exercise from me today, as it is only a stroll,” I replied, noticing that he’d given her a normal saddle instead of a side one. “The saddle will need to be changed.”

“Forgive me, my lady, I will go fetch the correct one. I was not told which you preferred today,” he said and called out to one of the other hands to get the sidesaddle.

I glanced around the stables to see if anyone else had arrived. “Has no one else called for their horse to be prepared?”

“Yes, just one, he’s inside now—”

“Really?” I said, moving into the stable, expecting to see Lord Covington. However, holding on to the reins of a white horse with black legs was…Prince Wilhelm. I stared at him and he stared back. When he opened his mouth to speak, I turned around and went back to my horse. I placed my sketchbook into my saddlebag.


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