Page 50 of Vengeful Princess

I shrugged. In truth, she’d gone to her room a while back, saying she had a headache. These parties were always too much for her, which my father knew. He paraded her around for a while, eager to show off his beautiful trophy wife, but he was more than happy when she retired.

With no wife around, he was once again free to misbehave with impunity. None of his cronies gave a damn; they were all as bad as him.

I’d noticed him follow the redhead onto the terrace. Once he failed to reappear, I figured I better check up on him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d assaulted some poor girl too young and scared to fight him off.

He may have been my sperm donor, but there was no love lost between us.

“I suppose I better go find her before she embarrasses me again,” he muttered before striding away toward the main ballroom. I smirked. Good luck with that.

Once he’d gone, I looked for the redhead, but there was no sign of her.

“Incoming,” Kyril hissed as he appeared at my side, looking like the Grim Reaper in his black tux and mask. He handed me a glass of champagne and winked.

“Cassian!” My ears bled at the sound of Camilla’s whining voice. She’d stuck to my side like glue since the ball started, and this was the first time I’d been able to shake her off.

My Camilla problem was about to be resolved, however.

The yellow Givenchy ball gown she’d chosen for tonight’s festivities made her look like a stick of butter. I tried not to laugh as she teetered toward us on six-inch heels, waving her ostentatious diamond engagement ring around, just in case anyone hadn’t yet seen it.

The only saving grace to her outfit was the mask that hid half her face. If I squinted, I could pretend she was someone else.

“I was fetching you a drink,” I told her when she reached us. Kyril looked away and feigned fascination with a ghastly oil painting of a man on a black horse. The Mad Duke, my mother’s great-great-grandfather. The lunatic had shot himself in the head after screaming the devil was coming for him.

Mama’s family tree was full of nutjobs like him.

“Thank you, darling!” Camilla brightened at the thought I’d done something nice for her. She snatched the glass from me and guzzled the Krug down like it was lemonade, oblivious to the slight residue left at the bottom of the glass.

“I thought we could go sit outside for a bit,” I suggested, offering her my arm.

“Oh yes! That would be lovely!” She preened like a peacock as I escorted her through the ballroom and out into the garden, where many of our friends were well on the way to being drunk.

Kyril trailed behind us. As much as I would have happily abandoned Camilla in the maze, we’d decided it would be better to drop her ass in her bedroom once she passed out. At least that way, nothing truly awful would happen to her. Not that I cared much if anything did.

I pushed her down onto a bench, none too gently, and she grumbled with annoyance.

“What’s he doing hanging around?” she sniffed, refusing to look at Kyril, who she viewed as nothing more than a ‘gangster’.

“I’m waiting for the show to begin,cyka,” he grinned.

“Show?” Camilla frowned. “What show? You mean the fireworks?”

“Yes, fireworks,” I said, glaring at him. I knew damn well he meant the sight of Camilla falling backward on her ass once the drug kicked in. He’d slipped some Rohypnol in the champagne. Because she’d drunk it so fast, it wouldn’t take long to take effect.

Camilla nodded and then began to tell me some inane shit about weddings that I ignored. After a short while, her head drooped against my shoulder, and a few minutes later, she was out cold.

“Come on, let’s take her back to her room via the servant’s entrance. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious. Her father’sstill around here somewhere.” Kyril nodded and helped me lift her. Not that she was heavy. I could quite easily have tossed her over my shoulder, but I didn’t want her puking down my back.

We walked a snoring Camilla across the lawn, sticking to the shadows. Just as we reached the rear entrance by the kitchen, Landon jogged over the lawn and ducked around the side of the house.

“Your father’s looking for you,” he said, smirking at the sight of Camilla’s head lolling everywhere. “You better leave. He was heading in this direction.”

I turned to Kyril. “Here, you sort her and I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure. With pleasure.” An evil grin flashed across his face, causing me a moment of unease.

“Don’t do anything to hurt her, Kyril. I can’t afford to piss my father off too much.”

Kyril rolled his eyes as he grabbed Camilla none too gently. “She’ll be fine.”

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