Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“And how about you?” I finally asked, knowing it was a bad idea. I was poking a beast.
She looked back up at me as if I was an insect that had somehow made its way onto the table.
“What about me?”
“Any travel plans in the near future?” I asked, wiping my face with the ridiculously soft cloth napkin and placing it in front of me.
“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “Sebastian and I will be traveling to Beloria in thirteen days. Sebastian hopes to propose marriage to Princess Emma during this time.”
I tried to hide my shock. I didn’t want to give the queen the satisfaction. She had said it to needle me, and I knew it.
“No such thing has been arranged,” Sebastian said, his voice low. He dropped his hand from where it had been resting on my thigh and I missed the warmth immediately.
“Hasn’t been arranged, but it’s the perfect time for it, of course,” the queen said.
“Perfect time for him to get married, or perfect time for you to force it?”
She set down her fork with a small clatter.
“Mr. Denton, you’ve already let us know that you don’t have plans for your future. But Sebastian has a very bright one ahead of him.”
“Mother—”
“I know he does,” I said. “At least there is one person sitting at this table who deserves one.”
She looked like she was thirsty for blood. I knew it was tantamount to treason for me to imply that the queen didn’t have a bright future herself.
But I was fucking done. I was done with her bullshit. If Sebastian needed to tolerate the queen because she was family, he could do that. But I didn’t have to.
Queen Charlotte shot up out of her seat quickly, the wood scraping against the floor. She tossed down her napkin, nodding to a man who must have been one of her many valets or assistants.
“Mr. Denton, please accompany the queen to the room at the end of the hall,” the man said.
“No,” Sebastian protested. “You will not take him to the war room.”
“Come quickly, please, Henry,” the queen said.
“Don’t go,” Sebastian said.
“No,” I said. “I’m going. As the queen asked.”
I felt every muscle in my body tense up as I watched her walk off. If she wanted to take me to the damn war room to discuss things, I would be more than glad to give her a piece of my mind.
“You don’t have to do this,” Sebastian told me, gripping my wrist as I pushed my chair backward.
“I’m going to, though,” I said.
As Queen Charlotte rounded the corner of the hall, Sebastian stood up and pulled me close to him. He leaned in, pressing his lips hard against mine.
I gasped at the touch. He let his lips linger on mine for a few seconds, breathing deep before pulling away and looking me in the eyes.
“If you really must,” he said, letting me go. “But remember. She has no power over you.”
Genoveve was staring at us. Two kitchen staff workers were staring at us. The queen’s assistant was staring at us. And two other people, I assumed high-level castle management, were sitting at the table, eyes so wide they looked like they might pop out of their skulls.
For the last twenty-four hours—no, for the last couple weeks—I’d felt like I’d somehow entered another plane of existence. But Sebastian kissing me in plain view in the castle? I was in another dimension entirely.
“Go ahead,” he said. His cheeks were the slightest bit red. “I… have some things I need to do.”
I took a deep breath and headed down the hall, following it until I saw the same war room I’d been in last time.
The queen was sitting inside, perched on one of the small chairs.
“Good,” she said when I appeared. The door closed behind me after I walked in. I knew it was just a member of the staff who had walked behind me, but it still gave the eerie feeling that I was being locked in a jail cell.
I stood there, arms crossed, leaning against the cold stone wall.
“You can sit, you know,” she said.
“I’d rather not.”
She looked down at the floor as she spoke. “My son is fond of you,” she said. “He always has been rather fond of you.”
I didn’t know if she expected a response, but I wasn’t going to give her one.
“My son also has many responsibilities,” she continued. “He hates them. He’s always hated them. But the important thing is that he respects his responsibilities, and even if he’s dragging his feet, kicking and screaming through it. He always honors his duties.”
“Sebastian is good about that,” I said.
“Yes,” Queen Charlotte said, her eyebrows lifting even though the rest of her face remained full of resentment toward me. “I’ve taught him well.”
“Or it was lucky chance.”
She acted like my words meant nothing. “I understand that temporarily, you are back living in Berrydale. But this little visit of yours is in no way going to affect the trajectory of my son’s life.”