Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Then you will see us all hunted down?” she pressed. “Look what they have done to you. The war is over, but Europe is still in chaos. Yes, you have been treated unfairly, but such is everyone’s life. You cannot be so childish and petty over it. You are a prince. Gather your wits, we leave in three days’ time.”
“I will not be going anywhere. If you wish to leave, you may.”
“August, I have given you an—”
She paused as the door opened wide, and sure enough, Hathor entered. She had a large smile on her face, and quite a lot of art supplies in hand.
“You’re awake! Good, have you missed me?” Because of the positioning of the door, she did not see who was sitting beside me. It was only when she took a few steps toward me that she noticed her. “Oh—hello! Forgive me, I did not see you.” She curtsied slightly to her.
“And you are?” my mother asked.
“She is Lady Hathor Du Bell, my fiancée.” And she truly had the worst timing in history. “Hathor, this is my mother, Queen Augusta.”
Her eyes widened, and she sank into a much more pronounced and slower curtsy before her.
“Your Majesty—”
“What on earth do you mean by fiancée, August?” My mother’s eyes whipped back to me, and she now spoke in German. “I am not in the mood for your jokes.”
“I am not joking, Mother, and I thank Aunt Charlotte for making the introduction,” I replied in English, looking at Hathor as she stared at my mother.
“My sister introduced you to this lowly girl?”
“While I am not a royal, I do not think I can be considered lowly, Your Majesty,” Hathor spoke back to her in German. “Also, my parents have seen very well to my education, so if you would like to speak in a language I cannot understand, I would suggest Spanish.”
I snorted a little bit, and had to bite down on my own lip at a look from my mother.
“How good of you to be so accomplished, Lady Hathor. However, it seems my sister has made a mistake. My son is a prince, and therefore he shall be wed to a princess.”
“Mother—”
“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I believe no princess would marry him, due to your decision to banish him. And it must be said that our queen makes no mistakes. She chose me, as she believes me best suited for him, and I thank her most graciously.”
All of a sudden, I was hungry again. I lifted my apple, leaning back on the pillow as my mother rose to her feet slowly.
“In the education your parents gave you, did they not see to it that you watched your manner of speaking, young lady?”
“Yes, they did, Your Majesty, and if I were in Malrovia, I would be greatly mindful. But this is England; this is the palace of Her Majesty Queen Charlotte, and we both are her guests. Who can be fearful, under her protection?”
My mother’s nose flared. “How unfortunate that this is not Queen Charlotte’s son, then, but mine. You are aware of that, correct?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” she said graciously. “I know the names of all our queen’s dear children. I would not mistake them for anyone else’s.”
“Good, then you should also be aware it is my choice whom my son marries.”
“Is it not by permission of the monarch?”
“I am his queen.”
“Forgive me, I presumed by your blacks that you were now the queen mother. Is that not correct?” Hathor looked to me, as now even I was too shocked to move during her mighty battle. “Are the customs different in your country, Wilhelm? In England, the king must give his blessing for marriage, and if he is indisposed, it falls upon the queen?”
“Yes, that is the custom there, too. So, if we were in my country—and we are not—then we would need my brother’s or my sister-in-law’s blessing.”
“Ah, so it is as I thought.” She smiled, and shifted her gaze back to my mother. “Do you have any other questions for me, Your Majesty?”
The doors opened once more. It was as if we were in a play: The scene was now two queens, a sick prince, and a young noble lady in one room. Heaven help me.
“Augusta, you are here. How…timely,” my aunt said with the most amused smirk on her face as she looked between my mother and Hathor. There was no possibility she was only now finding out my mother had arrived. Had she been listening? “I see you have met Lady Hathor. Is she not a great beauty?”
“We consider great beauties in Malrovia better seen than heard, yet I have heard quite the mouthful from this one. Where did you find such a provoking creature, Charlotte?”
“Monthermer. Her father is the marquess. Let us speak over tea, you must be exhausted. Come along, August needs his rest.”