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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“Mama, that makes no sense at all!”

She laughed at me. “I know, but it is the reality we are working with. As I told you before, it does not happen overnight. It takes constant presence and perseverance. So long as you stay close, your special gentleman will realize he wants you to remain close to him. But none of that can happen if you are locked away in your room painting, so gather your wits!”

“I assure you, they are gathered. In fact, I fear I have too much.”

“No more snark. Your behavior with Prince Wilhelm is plenty.”

I groaned, wondering how much she knew, but then thought better of asking. She was Mama; I was sure she knew everything. Glancing back down at my painting, which Bernice and the rest of the maids who now entered were carefully setting to the side, I couldn’t help but smile. It seemed Prince Wilhelm wasn’t all bad.

I actually wanted to talk to him.

But solely for artistic purposes.

Wilhelm

I was exhausted and, in all honesty, wished for nothing more than to return to bed. However, I could not be absent for two days, or else all the guests would think me either dying or horribly discourteous. Though fighting back the urge to yawn in everyone’s presence was equally rude. On top of that, my wrist and fingers ached. I could not believe my own foolishness. I truly had spent nearly a day working to re-create her painting by any means necessary. I did not understand the overwhelming guilt that possessed me, that forced me to pick up a paintbrush again after so long.

Each time I thought to take a break or to abandon the work altogether, I saw her face in my mind staring at me in horror…and pain. Immediately, I was painting again. Before I knew it, I’d finished late into the evening and pleaded with the same maid who’d brought me the art supplies to deliver the piece to Hathor’s room. I could not even inquire as to her reaction; I’d collapsed in utter exhaustion, only to be woken up early this morning and forced out by Lukas.

Did she like it? Well, it was her work, so that might not have been the best question. I was a bit out of practice; with her character, she may very well have been insulted. Either way, I was sure she’d speak her mind…if she ever came down.

“Your Highness? Your Highness?”

“Yes?” I looked back to Lady Mary, whose company I’d completely forgotten I was in. Not just her, but all the other ladies who were now also staring at me. “Forgive me. What were you discussing?”

“Whatever has ensnared your thoughts away from us, Your Highness, and how are we to recapture your attention?” She giggled as she fanned her neck. I’d learned young ladies were taught these tactics in order to trick men into staring at their breasts. Hers looked rather high and tight.

“Are you thinking of the war?” another girl, I believed her to be Lady Amity, said, stepping up beside Mary as though she wished to push her out of the way. She, too, fanned herself. Though we were outside, it was not so warm that one needed their own wind.

Normally I would play along and joke about something or other to amuse them, but I was exhausted, and I could feel my annoyance rise as they encircled me.

“I—”

“Papa says it is best not to think of such dreary things,” Lady Mary cut in, once more trying to bring herself center stage. “I recommend riding, as it clears one’s thoughts.”

“Oh, wonderful! We should make it a point of duty to go for a ride,” Lady Amity said, with a larger smile, if that were possible. “I am very fond of horses.”

I was just about to lose my temper when, all of a sudden, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“While you may be fond of horses, Amity, I do not believe they are very fond of you.”

I turned around to see Lady Hathor wearing a scarlet red dress, holding a parasol in one hand and a book in the other. Beside her stood a very tall Lady Clementina, dressed in purple. “You were nearly thrown the last three times you rode, and your father forbade you to ride unaccompanied, is that not so?”

“I—”

“Yes, I believe it is so!” Lady Mary added. “You ought to be careful, my dear; one can never be too careful.”

“Agreed. It is a lady’s duty to always be mindful of her condition. As such, Mary, my maid can help you with your dress. It looks rather tight,” Hathor said to her.

“It’s quite fine, thank you, Hathor,” Mary huffed.

“Oh. Well, if you believe so despite the ripped seam, then by all means continue on with your ride,” she said, linking arms with Lady Clementina and continuing their walk. I truly believed she planned to pass by without saying a word to me. However, she paused before me and curtsied…correctly. “Good morning, Your Highness. Do forgive my friends. Normally, they are much more courteous, and would not crowd around someone freshly recovered or demand they partake in excess exertions of energy, but they are not accustomed to royalty. That is why they behave as a gaggle of geese.”


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