“Why do we have to go to this dinner?” she complained to her cousin, Stefan, picking at one of the pins in her hair that was digging into her scalp. “He never makes us eat with the grown-ups when he has them over! Why is it so important to him this time?”
Stefan shrugged, tugging at his bowtie. “I heard him talking with his men about how whatever treaty they’re working on is unprecedented, and it could change the way our family does business with other families. Maybe he wants us to put up a united front?”
The princess snorted. “So, he wants us to pretend that we’re a happy family, and he actually gives a shit about us?”
Stefan grinned at her use of the profane word he’d taught her. “Something like that. And we’ll probably have to eatciorba de burta, because Father will want to impress the guests.”
The princess wrinkled her nose. “I am not eating tripe soup!” She sucked in a breath. “O Doamne! He’s not expecting Andrei to?—”
At that very moment, an unholy scream erupted in the hallway, and in burst Andrei’s maid with him in tow, his voice like a siren. He was tugging frantically at the tie and stiffly starched shirt around his neck.
“Princess, you need to—” the maid began, but the princess was already across the room, tearing the bowtie from her brother’s neck, her deft fingers making short work of the buttons until she could drag the shirt from his little body.
“Breathe, Andrei,” she murmured, pulling him into the tight embrace that helped to calm him. “Breathe with me.”
She took slow, deliberate breaths, ignoring the deafening shrieks still erupting from her brother. Slowly, so very slowly, his noise reduced to a whine in between deep breaths.
“The shirt felt itchy,” she stated. “The tie was too tight.”
Andrei nodded against her shoulder.
“You don’t have to wear them, then,” she told him.
“But Princess, I—” the maid protested.
“We don’t have to wear clothes that hurt our bodies,” the princess interrupted, trying to keep her cool. Raising her voice now was a sure-fire way to send Andrei into another meltdown. “Perhaps it would be best if you tell Uncle that Andrei is too young to attend the dinner tonight.”
“But … I-I want to,” Andrei hiccupped.
“Are you sure? They’re going to serve tripe soup as the first course.”
Andrei gagged. The maid gaped, horrified. Stefan covered his laughter with his fist to his mouth.
“But your uncle wishes to have a family picture taken before the dinner—since you’re all in your fancy clothes.”
The princess fixed the maid with her most regal, commanding glare. “And Andrei can have his photo taken in whatever item of clothing he feels most comfortable in.”
She stood, gripping Andrei’s hand. “I will take him back to his room, and I will make sure he is well-dressed in something he likes.”
She knew her uncle would roar about this, would punish the pair of them for their insubordination, but she wasn’t having her brother agitated by scratchy collars and ties that felt more like a noose.
If they were lucky, he might make them stay in their rooms and not come down for the stupid dinner at all.
In hindsight, the princess would have tried to convince her brother to suffer through the uncomfortable clothing, would have shown him she could make some adjustments to the tightness at his throat to make it less unbearable … if she had only known that the punishment her uncle would mete out would be far, far worse than a night of discomfort …
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Defiled
HENRY
Ri shrank as soon as the question left my mouth. Her body folded in on itself, and my heart lurched.
Whoever the boy and the man were in that photo, she hadn’t wanted me to know about them. That, or she’d been trying her hardest to forget about them.
I chose to believe it was the latter, although deep down, I knew that she had secrets, and that she didn’t trust me enough to share them with me. Yet.
I was going to prove to her that she could trust me with anything that weighed on her. If I could have nothing else from her, when this two-year marriage of ours was no longer necessary, I wanted it to be that she would know, in perpetuity, that she could rely on me, could confide in me. Could depend on me to always help her.
