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)
“Forgive me, it was an accident!” he said, quickly going to lift it up. I saw no point; the piece was dead. He’d killed it. “I shall replace—”
“You cannot replace art, you imbecile!” I snatched the canvas from him and hugged it to my chest.
“Imbecile? You are calling me a—”
“Yes!” I snapped. I marched up to him and stuck my finger into his chest, trying to poke a hole into him as he’d done to my art. “Yes, I am calling you that, for you continuously injure me! Why? What did I do to you? Nothing. I am sure of it. And yet each time we cross paths you commit some act of harm against me.”
“Lady Hathor, I did not mean to—”
“I do not care!”
“What is going on?”
I turned to see my brother now at the door, staring between us both worriedly. It was only then that I realized…we were a man and woman alone, with no chaperone, standing far too close to each other. Immediately I took several steps back and opened my mouth to explain, when the villain spoke first.
“I have accidently ruined Lady Hathor’s art, and she is rightly cross with me over it.” I inhaled through my nose as he walked toward my brother. “I shall seek to apologize when she has calmed.”
“I will not be calmed!” I hollered. My brother’s eyes snapped to me with a fury similar to our mother’s. I looked away, breathing again through my nose. I could hear them muttering to each other, but I refused to give him another look.
“Must you be so uncompromising?” Damon asked me once Prince Wilhelm had left the room.
I lifted up my painting for him to see. “Can you not see that it is he who is uncompromising? He ruined my—”
“Hathor, this is not the first time one of your pieces has been ruined. You’ve never looked ready to kill someone over it, nor have you ever insulted them with such vulgarity,” he said in return.
“I was barely vulgar,” I muttered, setting the ruined work back down.
“Barely is still inappropriate. This may be our home, but they are our guests…and he the most important guest of all.”
“So because he is a prince, he is allowed to destroy whatever he pleases? And I must accept it? Is that compromise?”
“Hathor…my dear sister”—he put his hands on my shoulders—“please breathe. You’ve always been dramatic, but you’ve never been stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“They are royals. They do not compromise; we do. That is what it means to be a loyal member of society. That is what it means to be a great lady, or have you forgotten?”
“Well—”
“Think of what will happen if you make an enemy of this prince,” he said, looking me in the eye. “If the queen hears you have offended her nephew. Even if he is wrong, we must ignore it. If he greatly upsets you, stay away from him. Find me if you need to, and I shall stand as your shield, but do not act recklessly. If not for your sake, then for Devana’s and Abena’s, who still need to debut into society.”
I frowned but nodded.
“Good. Now should I call your maid to join you here as you sulk? Or will you go outside and socialize, since Mother put in a lot of effort for you?”
“I guess I must socialize, though all the gentlemen have been greatly disappointing thus far. And please, do not tell Mama I was in here alone with someone. I do not wish to be lectured right now.” I moved to put the ruins of my work to the side when I noticed my sketchbook, the one he’d looked through, laid carefully on the table. I lifted it up and flipped through the pages. “Do men truly not enjoy picnics and boat rides?”
“What?”
I looked back to him, hugging the book to my chest. I actually didn’t want to know the answer, so I just shook my head. “Never mind—”
“That is your second ‘never mind’ this afternoon. If there is a third, I may have to call a doctor.”
“Must you pick on me?”
“Yes, for you are being odd…more so than normal.”
“I am starting to think I dislike all men in general,” I huffed at him before marching out. Where were the romantics? The men who rode out into storms and wrote epic poetry? Why was everyone so…so…unlike what I wanted?
Was I truly just waiting on a fantasy?
If so…were my grand expectations of love the real cause of my distress?
Could no man live up to the one I had sought to create in my book?
9
Hathor
It did not matter if the prince was in the room or not; every single conversation was about him and what he might fancy.
Strangely enough, after the incident in the library, he did not show his face for the rest of the day. He even sent word that he was unwell and would have dinner in his rooms. That caused Mama, and everyone else, to panic. She immediately thought to call a doctor, and all the other mamas were gossiping about what the nature of his ailment could be. I suspected he was not truly ill. He merely wished to avoid everyone’s company…my company in particular, for good reason. I could not believe I’d called him an imbecile and yelled at him as though he were a servant. Damon was right: It was wholly improper, even if I felt justified in my rage. Though I would not apologize, I still saw the harm that could be caused if the queen heard I was insulting royals like a madwoman.