Page 3 of The Princess Trap
“Come on, then,” Rose finally snapped. She wasn’t known for her patience.
Louise relented, her tone hushed. “There’s aman.”
Cherry looked at Rose. Rose looked at Cherry. They might work in a school—sorry,educational academy—but mendidappear from time to time. True, they tended to belong to senior management rather than, say, the admin team. But they were hardly a rare sighting.
“Aman?” Rose prompted.
“Yes.” Louise nodded like a bobble-head. “Anewman. A visitor. And he’s absolutely bloody gorgeous.”
Cherry leaned forward. “Ishe, now?”
“His backside is unbelievable,” Louise breathed. Her voicewas reverent. Her eyes were slightly unfocused. Cherry’s interest was most firmly piqued.
“And who is this man?” Rose demanded. “What’s he doing here?”
Louise hesitated.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. That’s all the gossip you have?”
“I’m afraid so, Rose. He’s just come in, you see, and Chris fairly whisked him away…”
“Well,” Rose sniffed. “You’d best get back to reception, before you miss anything else.”
“You’re right,” the younger woman murmured, almost to herself. “He might come out again. There might bemoreof them!” She disappeared without bothering to say goodbye. As the door swung shut, Cherry wondered justhowhandsome this man could possibly be. Perhaps she could…
Don’t even think about it. You’re a sensible adult who does not make a fool of herself at work. You are a mature woman entering the prime of her life, not to be distracted by—
“Go and investigate, will you, darling?”
Cherry stood. “If you insist.”
Chapter Two
His Royal Highness Prince Magnus Ruben Ambjørn Octavian Gyldenstierne of Helgmøre—widely known as Ruben—was trying his best not to look bored. After all, contrary to popular belief, he did havesomemanners.
But he was almost certainly failing.
Still, he supposed it didn’t really matter. Chris Tabary, the source of Ruben’s current boredom, was so far up his own arse that he probably wouldn’t notice if Ruben whipped off his trousers and threw them out the bloody window.
“After lunch,” the older man droned, “we’ll begin touring the new build—soon to be theelitebranch of the Academy, for our particularly promising pupils…”
Ruben’s mind, which had been in the middle of deciding how soon was too soon to leave, pounced on the wordelitelike a cat with a mouse.
“What does that mean?” he demanded, leaning forward. He could almost feel the eyes of his close guard and best friend, Hans, boring into the back of his head. Could almost hear the other man’s voice:Don’t let your mouth run away with you. Again.Clearing his throat, Ruben attempted to sound polite. “I mean—when you say ‘elite’, you are referring to…?”
Tabary blinked. Clearly, he was not used to being interrupted. But he collected himself in record time, clasping his slender hands together and offering what he probably thought of as a charming smile. It was a little too wide, a little too plastic, and showed far too many teeth.
“By ‘elite’, Your Highness—”
Ruben sighed. “Please. No titles. I assume Demetria sent you the materials?” It was a rhetorical question. Demetriaalwayssent the materials.
“Ah, yes.” Tabary appeared slightly unsettled by his mistake. He winced a little, his smile wavering before he dragged it back into place. “My apologies. I should say,Mr.Ambjørn. Here at the Academy, we pay special attention to those students identified as elite via our stratified testing system. Students are monitored throughout the term, and tested once per year—”
“Aside from the national tests, you mean?”
“Precisely. Every September, we undertake school-wide testing to ensure that our most elite intellectuals are separated from the other students.”
Ruben’s alarm bells were not simply ringing; they werescreaming. “By testing,” he said carefully, “you refer to… ah… examination? In a room?” At Tabary’s slight frown, he added, “My English. You understand.”
