Page 92 of The Princess Trap
“Good evening, gentlemen.” She smiled sunnily after them. They rushed out of the room as if it were on fire.
When the door clicked shut behind them, Cherry slid off the little stool and sank onto the floor. She met Ella’s eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, and said, “Was it your father, or was it your aunt?”
Ella sniffed, swiping a hand over her nose. “Aunt Sophy likes to make trouble,” the child said. “She does not like to feel trouble.”
Hm. Surprisingly apt.
“Alright,” Cherry said. “Your father. Would you like to come out from under there?”
The child shook her head.
“Has he done this before?”
Ella hesitated. But then she said, the words tumbling out, “Not like this. But he hurts me sometimes, and worse now. Tonight I asked him, too many times, why I cannot go to the ball. And he lost his temper. So…” She waved helplessly at her cheek.
Cherry nodded. “I see.”
They were interrupted by more footsteps, and yet again, Cherry swirled into position before the piano.
But in the end, the subterfuge wasn’t necessary. The door opened to reveal Ruben, his face tight with worry. He fiddled with the light, bathing the room in a low, golden glow. “Cherry? Is something wrong?”
“Well,” she began, trying to keep her voice calm. Before she could go any further, Ella shot out from under the piano and ran across the room, throwing her arms around Ruben’s waist.
He looked down at her with a frown. “Ella? What are you doing out of bed?”
Cherry saw the exact moment that Ruben caught sight of his niece’s face. Everything about him hardened in an instant. Even as he tried to smooth out his expression, to keep his voice steady and calm, she saw.
He tipped Ella’s head back with shaking hands and stared at the mark on her cheek. It was even worse in the light. It would almost certainly bruise. Then he spoke curtly in Danish, which was still incomprehensible to Cherry. She really needed to learn.
He finished in English, “Go and sit with Cherry. Stay here. I will come back soon.”
The child obeyed, and Ruben turned and stalked from the room without another word.
Cherry stared after him. “What did he say?”
She wasn’t expecting an answer. But Ella replied with satisfaction in her voice. “He said we’re leaving and we’re never coming back.”
Ruben shouldered his way through the crowds, all of his focus on the couple at the centre of the room.
Lydia and Harald might as well be joined at the hip; he hadn’t let her go all night, and he clearly didn’t intend to. Now Ruben knew why. Harald didn’t want his wife to catch wind of the fact that Ella was running around the palace—or, more importantly, why.
Wouldn’t want a scene in front of all these people, now, would he?
Ruben relied upon that fact to get him what he needed. He approached his brother with the biggest smile he could muster, dredging up what he imagined a brotherly greeting might sound like. “Harald! If I could borrow my lovely sister-in-law for a moment…”
Lydia gave him a mutinous glare, shaking her head infinitesimally.
But Harald didn’t betray even a second of surprise. He grinned back at Ruben as naturally as if they were old friends, as if they really were family instead of just blood. “Of course, little brother! Don’t keep her too long, will you?”He bent to kiss Lydia’s cheek, lingering for a few endless seconds. Then he looked up and met Ruben’s eyes, his own cold, the threat there clear. “You know I hate to be without her.”
The assembled crowd cooed as if this were the most adorable thing they’d ever heard. Ruben tried not to look as sickened as he felt and swept an arm around Lydia’s shoulders, steering her away.
“What are you doing?” She muttered under her breath, a smile pinned to her face. “I told you, I cannot—”
“You will,” Ruben said. “You will.”
He pulled out his phone as he and Lydia hurried through the halls, sending a quick text to Hans. A signal.
The reply was swift.
