Page 11 of Thrones We Steal

“What are you talking about? My mother is hosting a dinner—” I look again at his fancy jacket, the velvet lapels soft in the light from the house.

Rosalind’s strange obsession with this party becomes crystal clear.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Will you just let me in?” he says.

“You are not dating my sister,” I hiss.

“Celia! Don’t keep him waiting outside!” As if summoned by our words, Beatrice herself floats down the stairs and over to the door like the ballet dancer she used to be. She has the keen ability to ferret out when she’s the topic of conversation. This allows her to either solidify or alter one’s opinion of her.

She squeezes past me and drags Henry into the house. Her bubblegum nails wrap around his arm like he’s a prized trophy. Adoration beams from her face. She swivels to me. “Were you surprised?” To Henry she says, “I’ll bet her jaw hit the floor when she opened the door.”

He does his best to affect a laugh, but the air is cardboard. His eyes meet mine as she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Bile pools in my stomach, and there’s no longer any space in my lungs.

I’m going to be sick, and Rosalind is going to murder me for ruining her party.

Out of deference for my mother, I will not wreck anything right now. But two more hours and then I kill him.

* * *

In true Rosalind-fashion, the seating arrangement prevents couples from sitting next to each other, even though this practice is as outdated as landlines, which she also still swears by, claiming cell phones are too personal. “Imagine if the prime minister called me while I was in the bathroom!” I didn’t bother pointing out that the prime minister hasn’t yet had a reason to call her, in the bathroom or otherwise.

In her efforts to put her best foot forward, which I now know is all part of the plot to help Beatrice land the crown prince, she has staggered the men and women, landing me between Lords Havensport-Barton and Poast. I’m acquainted with both, but the conversation is so dull, even the middle of the desert sounds like paradise right now. Most intriguing is the storm rolling in, which causes the lights to dim several times, which coaxes manic giggles from several of the women.

Rosalind’s eight courses drag on, until finally the pudding course is served, and the end is in sight. I glance across the table to find Henry’s eyes on me. He’s spinning a fork between his fingers and the flick-flick-flick is arresting. I narrow my eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile lifts his lips before he looks away.

When dinner is over, we move to the drawing room again for yet more obligatory small talk, but this time with the companions of our choice. I’m torn between gauging Lord Rosenbaum’s opinion on my petition and saving my sister from destruction, who is currently super-glued to Henry’s side.

“What is she doing with him?” Beck says next to me, following my line of sight. His dislike of Henry matches my own.

“What do you think?”

Beatrice radiates under Henry’s attention, and I know she’s misinterpreting it into something it will never be. He leans close and whispers something in her ear. This teases giggles from her lips. Why can’t she see that Henry flirts like this with every woman he’s with? He chooses a new victim the very next day.

It’s age-old. Bea thinks she can change Henry, tame him. She hopes she’s different enough to be the one to turn the bad boy into a good boy. But it’s a futile mission. Henry cares about no one but himself, and Beatrice will simply be collateral damage on his path to destruction.

My petition can wait. My sister’s heart may not be able to.

“I have to do something,” I say to Beck.

It doesn’t take long to catch Henry’s gaze. I flick my eyes toward the doorway, and after a few seconds, he detaches himself from Bea’s grasp.

When he walks into the hall, closing the door behind us, I pounce. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Calm down. We’re just friends.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. That’s my sister!”

“Fully aware.”

“How dare you drive me home and never say a word.”

“I thought you knew. You asked me for a ride.” He holds out his hands like he’s an innocent little boy.

“There’s no way in hell you thought I knew.”

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