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“Hi. I’m June,” she blurted, then blushed with embarrassment, wondering if there was some sort of aristocratic introduction protocol that she’d just breached. Was she supposed to have waited for one of the others to introduce her? Judging by the pinched look on Prince Gideon’s face and Tristan’s amused expression, she was.
“This is Juniper of Earth,” Tristan offered. “She will be visiting for a while and will return home shortly.”
“An Earthling? Here? I thought they were a primitive race of warmongers.”
June frowned, struggling not to look offended.
“Prince Gideon,” Edel chided. “June might come to believe we are the primitive ones with a comment like that so casually uttered in her presence.”
Reprimanded, Prince Gideon inclined his head. “Of course you are right, Your Majesty.” He stepped forward to take Junes hand and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. His mustache tickled her knuckles. “Please forgive me, Juniper of Earth.”
“Yeah, sure.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and surreptitiously rubbed away the prickling sensation.
Prince Gideon once more disregarded her and faced Tristan. “One more thing if I might, Your Highness. Leanora awaits your response. Will you permit me to pass along some good news?”
Tristan’s expression seemed to harden, his gaze flicking to her and back. “That is not something I wish to discuss with anyone but her. I will summon her when I’m ready.”
“As you wish.”
“Belinda,” Tristan called. “Please escort June to one of the guest rooms.” He paused. “In the north wing. The one that faces east. You know the one. And send a couple of servants to attend her with food and drink.”
June wasn’t quite sure, but she got the impression he was trying to get rid of her. And though she understood he had a lot of fires to put out, she tried not to look crestfallen. A busy king wouldn’t have much time for a nobody like her. In fact, this might be the last she saw of him before she returned home. And even then, he might send her off without even a goodbye. The thought was depressing.
“June,” he said, his tone lower than before. Softer. She pasted a smile on her face. “Please make yourself at home and if you need anything, anything at all, just inform the servants and they will provide for you.”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you,” she replied, truly grateful for his protection and hospitality. As she proceeded to follow Belinda through a side entrance, she resisted the urge to reach out and steal one more taste of his skin against her fingers. Before she left, she glanced back for one last look. His back was to her as he continued conversing with Prince Gideon and the others. Still, she tried to snap a mental image to carry with her always.
Her legs felt heavy as she followed Belinda to an elevator. As they rode it up, Belinda muttered, “You don’t belong here,” and it took June a moment to realize the burly woman was talking to her, though her stiff gaze remained straight ahead.
It only took her another moment to realize Belinda didn’t like her one bit. Well, the feeling was suddenly mutual. “Apparently your king feels differently.”
When the elevator stopped, she followed Belinda down a wide hallway decorated with the same meticulous elegance and grace as below: gorgeous red-and-gold runway carpet, bracketed by chestnut-colored hardwood floors; soft, yet warm lighting from amber-and-tan mosaic sconces; detailed paintings of far-off landscapes. Once again June felt out of place.
It didn’t help when Belinda’s waspishness continued. “The king disgraces himself, fawning over a such a lowly creature.” June had been on the receiving end of plenty of insults throughout her life, most of them more creative and biting than that one. And even though on some level June agreed with her assessment—a completely ordinary human woman and a great dragon-shifting king from another planet made zero sense—it was still rude as hell to point it out.
She wasn’t going to let this snooty bitch tear her down. Or, at least, she wouldn’t let it show. June was always good at concealing her emotions—when a stray sneer or an eye roll might lead to the hospital, she had quickly learned to keep her thoughts off her face.
Once they reached the guest room, Belinda merely stopped and crossed her arms. “Doona feel as if you are free to wander the castle.”
June cleared her throat and pointedly eyed the closed door, waiting. Scowling, Belinda opened it and disdainfully waved her inside. As June glided across the threshold, she taunted, “Be sure to fetch my servants, Bet.”
The strength with which Belinda slammed the door made June jump, but then the spat was quickly forgotten. Her room was A-MA-ZING. It was more like an apartment suite, really, with a kitchenette, a luxurious sitting room, a dining room, and two glorious bedrooms for her to choose from. Past a set of glass doors was a large balcony, where she found a small garden and a crystal-clear pool that made her thirst for a dip. Only because she was a stranger to this place she refrained from stripping her clothes off and diving in directly, and the fact that she seemed to share the balcony with another room that might or might not be occupied.
She strolled to the edge of the banister. The afternoon breeze was warm and soft against her skin. It picked up a little when she leaned over to gaze down at the breathtaking view.
She figured she was eight or nine stories up, but it looked much higher since the castle resided on top of a hill. A flock of birds dove from above, passing her swiftly and riding along the side of the building until their path arched out over the vast forest and they disappeared behind the leaves. On the horizon, the sun glinted off the distant ocean.
A knock sounded on the door, and she wondered if Belinda was ready with more insults. When she hollered for her visitor to enter, a handful of servants decked out in neat uniforms marched in pushing a line of carts that were filled with fresh fruit parfaits, assorted sandwiches, mini pastries, fresh baked bread, and chocolate-dipped fruit, among other desserts.
Her mouth watered. She hadn’t expected all this.
One of the servants, a middle-aged man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair popped open a corked bottle and filled a stem glass with a sparkling pink liquid, then handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You are quite welcome, my lady,” the servant replied in a kind voice, then placed the bottle in an ice bucket before asking, “Will you be requiring anything else?”
“Not that I know of.” June sipped her drink. The vibrant taste of something fruity exploded on her tongue, followed by a tinge of alcohol. “Oh, man. This stuff is dangerous. I can already tell.” She gleefully took another sip.
