Hugo’s eyes darted to the bed. A nap on a comfortable bed did sound amazing after falling asleep sitting on a hard stone floor. “Thank you…”
“Florence,” she filled in with a little bobbing curtsy.
“Thank you for all your help, Miss Florence.”
The maid giggled and slipped out of the room after turning off the bathwater. Hugo barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief. A moment later, Mr. Booth entered with two flustered assistants behind him. He was a very stylish older man with a large bushy mustache that curled up at the ends. He lifted an equally bushy eyebrow at Hugo as he inspected him. With the snap of his fingers, one assistant jumped forward to strip off Hugo’s clothes while the other ran over him with a tape measure. Each time he took a reading, he shouted out a number to Mr. Booth, but no one wrote anything down. The tailor simply nodded as if he were committing it all to memory.
Within five minutes, they were gone, and Hugo was left standing nearly naked in the center of the room. The assistants had taken his clothes. He hoped someone remembered to return them to him. They had his best jacket and waistcoat.
But all that was forgotten for the next three hours. He soaked in the lavender-scented hot water and scrubbed off what felt like weeks of dirt and grime. Afterward, he found dishes of cut fruit, small pastries, and a pot of hot tea waiting for him. He ate a bit and enjoyed a nice nap in the softest, fluffiest bed he’d ever slept in.
Gentle taps on the door woke him later. A stiffly suited servant announced he would be Hugo’s valet and helped him dress in a pale-tan suit which perfectly complemented his brown hair and eyes. The valet even assisted with getting his hair precisely styled and his neckcloth tied in the best complicated knot for a luncheon.
A glance in the mirror revealed Hugo was decked out better than he had ever been in his life. At least he was dressed for the part of a proper companion for a prince. The only problem was that he didn’t feel it. Butterflies had taken flight in his stomach as he followed yet another servant from the guest room through many halls to a somewhat dark room decorated with a wide assortment of knives, guns and swords. In the center of the room was a round table with four chairs. It was set for two people, but the servant had placed the settings next to each other. Wasn’t that a little too intimate? Shouldn’t he be seated across from the prince? He didn’t want the prince to get the wrong idea.
After he arrived in the room, he waited.
And waited.
And waited some more. Hugo’s stomach howled and grumbled as he paced the room, looking over each of the weapons. His ravenous stomach ate up what nerves he’d suffered. He’d had just a bit of breakfast. If the prince couldn’t be bothered to join him for lunch, couldn’t someone bring him a piece of chicken and send him home?
The thought had barely formed in his mind when the door to the room suddenly opened and a handsome man strode in.
No!Thehandsome man.
The same beautiful man he’d protected from the runaway carriage less than a week ago. Hugo froze in the middle of bowing to the prince, his lips parting in a surprised O. The prince. The man he’d saved from the runaway carriage was Prince Everand, the only child of Queen Liliana and King Hubert.
Of course, the prince had also gotten to see him absolutely covered in muddy water after being saved. Far from the perfect moment he would have wanted it to be.
After a second, Hugo remembered himself and ripped his eyes away so he could finish his deep bow, but before he did,he thought he saw a tiny flicker in the prince’s eyes. Was there a chance he remembered Hugo? Would he be grateful for being saved? Maybe this luncheon wasn’t such a terrible idea.
“You must be the man Mother is trying to set me up with,” Prince Everand stated in a weary and irritated voice. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
Hugo’s mind spun while his stomach sank with disappointment. He couldn’t imagine why the prince would think he was being set up with Hugo. The notion was ridiculous. Of all people, the prince would most likely marry another noble or even another prince from a neighboring kingdom. Not a nobody like him.
Yet, even knowing that, Hugo couldn’t help feeling disappointed when the prince didn’t appear to remember him at all.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Hugo ventured quietly as he straightened.
The prince waved away a servant who stepped forward to move his chair. “What? What do you mean?”
“I wouldn’t presume to know Her Majesty’s thoughts, but I don’t believe she wished you to consider me as a potential match. It was just that there was a misunderstanding at the Winthrop Spring Gala recently. Her Majesty is possibly using this luncheon as a way of removing any lingering awkwardness.”
The prince scoffed and threw himself into the chair. “My mother has never felt awkward about anything,” he muttered. “She has a misunderstanding, and I have to pay the price.” Hugo hadn’t moved a step, so the prince had to twist around to glare at him. “What’s your name? Baker something, right?”
Hugo bowed again as he spoke. “Yes, Hugo Baker, Your Highness.”
“Come along, Hugo Baker. Be seated. They won’t serve until your butt is in the chair.”
Hugo nearly choked on a gasp and practically sprinted across the short distance to leap into the other chair that had been pulled out. He thought he caught a hint of a grin on the prince’s perfect face, but it disappeared too quickly, and the train of servants carrying platters and dishes of food distracted Hugo. Someone filled his glass with wine while others brought one delicate, wonderful-smelling thing after another.
Hugo fought the urge to wolf down everything that was placed in front of him. It was all delicious, and he was starved. He clung to his manners and ate at a leisurely pace. Here and there, he sneaked glances over at the prince, who continued to lounge in his chair, picking at his food as if he wasn’t hungry in the slightest. There were dark circles under his eyes. Had he spent a late night out with his friends? Or maybe he had a string of lovers who wouldn’t let him catch a minute of sleep.
The lunch was awkward and painfully quiet. Normally, he would try to make some pleasant small talk. However, he was also a commoner seated with a prince. It was inappropriate for him to speak without being spoken to first. All he could do was eat his delicious food and wait for the prince to say something.
They had finished an amazing potato soup and were starting a delicate chicken in a tangy sauce with honey-glazed carrots when the prince suddenly spoke up, jolting Hugo so badly that his fork nearly flew out of his hand.
“So, what was this misunderstanding that got you sentenced to lunch with me?” the prince asked, not sounding interested at all.
