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“I’ve not found anything yet,” Allera admitted glumly. “I asked about working and whatnot, but I was met with more blank-eyed stares than helpful suggestions.”
I sighed, making a face. “I feared as much. We might have to be stealthy about—”
Before I could come up with a plan for us to do our share in strengthening Donnelly, however, a muffled knock came from the direction of my door. Except it wasn’t coming at my door.
Then a voice called, “Princess Allera? Are you in there, my lady?”
Allera and I exchanged glances before she hissed, “Does that sound like Prince Brentley’s voice to you?”
I nodded. “It does indeed.” Pushing from my chair, I went to the door and cracked it open. After peering discreetly into the hall, I glanced back at my sister and whispered, “He’s knocking at your door.”
Her eyes widened with alarm. “He is? Oh God, what do I do?”
She looked so worried about the prospect of actually talking to her fiancé that a wickedly mischievous thought overtook me. I threw the door open wide and called, “She’s over here, old mate.”
Brentley whirled around to expose a fistful of daffodils clutched in his hand. “Oh!” he said breathlessly, his gaze instantly moving past me to settle on Allera hovering behind me. “Hello there, my lady.”
Allera shifted stiffly to my side and curtsied. “Prince Brentley,” she answered hesitantly before glancing at me as if seeking advice.
Brentley smiled. I swear, the man was pleased she’d merely remembered his name. “Here.” He thrust the flowers at her. “I brought these for you.”
“You…” She blinked at the flowers before sending me another glance as if she had no idea what to do with such a gift. Then she turned back to her betrothed. “That’s so nice,” she said, her voice full of surprise. “Daffodils are actually my favorite. Thank you.”
She glanced at me again, her face full of confusion, before she reached out and accepted the bouquet.
Brentley glowed from his accomplishment. “It’s my honor, my lady. And also, I was wondering if you might like to accompany me for a stroll around the gardens. I could give you a tour, show you the different variety of flowers we have here at the castle, anything you like.”
Allera’s lips parted and her eyes blinked slowly. She honestly didn’t know how to answer him. So I did it for her. “I think that sounds like a smashing idea.” Nudging her forward from behind, I winked at Brentley. “You two need to get acquainted with each other, anyway.”
“Yes.” He nodded, his smile affable and eager. “My thoughts precisely.”
“Oh…Well, okay then,” Allera said slowly. She glanced at me as if she wanted me to accompany them. But I thought it would be best if she got to know the man on her own. I knew I could trust her in his care. Plus, it always amuse
d me to torture her in any small way possible.
“Well, you two have fun,” I said, waving them away, then shutting the door between us as soon as Allera stepped fully into the hallway.
With a chuckle, I wiped my hands together, feeling accomplished as I wished her an awkward, stilted time with Brentley. It served her right for stealing the last of my grumpacker.
Chapter 9
Urban
For the remainder of the day, I stayed in my room, brooding, and not sure what I was supposed to do with myself.
I almost regretted not accompanying Allera and Brentley on their walk. Then again, I also didn’t. Who would want to tag along for that kind of awkwardness?
But it all left me distinctly alone.
A servant brought lunch to my room. I ate it by myself, not knowing the name of any dish on my tray. The food here didn’t taste the same as it did in High Cliff. It wasn’t worse, but the flavors were definitely different, rich with foreign spices. If I were in any other frame of mind, I probably would’ve enjoyed the explosion of new flavors. But I mostly just picked around with my fork, shifting the meal from one side of my plate to the other. It was hard to concentrate on food when the urge to seek out my one true love took up so much of my thoughts.
When dinnertime came, I planned to do much of the same, moping around my room, but the servant who showed up at my door didn’t bring a tray of food this time. He brought a summons. I guess when you were royalty, it was mandatory to dine every evening with the king, whether you wanted to or not.
After taking one look at my dusty clothes, the servant discreetly cleared his throat and recommended I change my attire into something more appropriate.
And so commenced a crapload of grumbling as I climbed into my stiff formal wear, not at all happy I was going to be forced to do this every fucking night. By the time I entered the dining hall a quarter of an hour later, I was the last royal to arrive, a fact which did not sit well with the queen.
“Prince Urban,” she greeted in a scathing voice as she sent me an icy glare. “So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. You do realize dinner starts at half past six every evening, do you not?”
