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)
“Keep speaking and I will cut out your tongue myself!” I hollered at him.
“I—”
“Did I not say enough!” the marquess roared once more. “Should this continue, prince or not, lord or not, I shall throw you both out of my home. Take them away!”
“Come on, quickly.” I had not realized it was Hathor’s brother holding me until I felt him push me from the room. Outside there were servants, and the marchioness, all staring at me with a look I was far too familiar with: The look most of the servants in my palace wore whenever my father had one of his outbursts. The stare of revulsion and trepidation.
I said nothing, walking toward the stairs quickly, hoping I would not come across her, too—that she would not look upon me like this, either. However, I was not so lucky: She was at the end of the hall.
Fuck!
I hung my head and just kept walking.
“It’s all right!” I heard her call out. Pausing, I turned back to her, thinking surely she was speaking to someone else. Instead, she stared at me with those eyes, and with a small smile on her face. “It’s all right.”
“You do not even know what happened,” I replied, and she just shrugged as she walked to where I stood.
“It doesn’t matter what happened, it’s still all right.” I was not sure why her words made me feel better. It was clearly not all right. This would be a scandal, and it would further tarnish my already tarnished name. Her family had put so much effort into this week, and all anyone would recall was that I punched the man who sought her hand in marriage. “Everything is going to be all right.”
“And if it’s not?”
She pretended to think. “Dying is always an option, but if that is too drastic, you can also go to America. I am not sure if that is a better or worse fate.”
I laughed. I could not help it. She was ridiculous, and—wonderful.
“Hathor!” She jumped at the sound of her name. Her shoulders tensed, and slowly we both looked to find her mother glaring at her. The marchioness inhaled through her nose before glancing toward me. “Your Highness, forgive her for intruding. I am sure you wish to go clean up.”
I wished to say she very much was not intruding, but I had disgraced myself more than enough for the afternoon. I nodded to them and continued on my way, but not before whispering to her.
“Even if I’ve ruined my chance—do not accept that man. You deserve better.”
I meant those words, but I also truly hoped I had not ruined my chance. Because the idea of marrying her was no longer just an idea: It was now my greatest aspiration.
17
Wilhelm
“Is it your desire to be run out of all of Europe entirely?” The queen hollered at me as I sat before her, my hands being tended to by the doctor who was fetched to cut out my heart for observation.
“I—”
“No, no, no. Do not speak. Fools do not get to speak,” she replied, standing in the middle of the drawing room. The walls were colored white and gold, while the ceiling itself was painted with heavenly beings. It felt as though I were being judged from on high. “Fools stay silent as all the world mocks them for their foolishness.”
“Aunt—”
“You are a prince. You are not supposed to be foolish!” she snapped again. “You are born to be a leader of men, August. A leader, not a beater—I cannot even say the word properly, for I feel foolish!”
“I think you’ve run the word fool into the ground, Aunt,” I replied as she took a breath, finally letting me get a word in.
“Better a word than a lord. Look at your hand. Surely not even a boxer has such wounds.”
“Have you ever seen a boxer?” I questioned, trying to imagine the sight of the queen at a match of that sort, dressed in her layers of laces and pearls.
“No, because I find the pounding of another man’s face for any reason to be most vile and— What is the word I am looking for, nephew?”
“Foolish—ah.” I gritted my teeth as the gray old doctor pressed around my knuckles, examining them through a monocle as though my hand came from the other side of the world.
“Tell me you shall need to cut off his hands,” she demanded.
“No—no—Your Majesty, it is nothing more than minor cuts and bruising, which will heal in a few days’ time,” he answered.
“The same thing I said—”
“I said silence from you,” she warned me, once more focusing on the doctor. “Do whatever you must for his hands, while I try to sort out the course of his life. Lady Crane!”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” The woman stepped forward.
“The marquess and marchioness: Have you gathered their position on this matter?”