Page 16 of The Throne Seeker
Her mask slipped as she shot a glare at Grant, knowing exactly what he was up to. It was the same antics he’d resorted to when they were young—getting a rise out of Tristan for entertainment.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something she’d regret.
Grant turned his attention back to her. “Listen, Rose, I know you don’t know me well.” Grant’s green eyes held hers with confidence. “But you do know my family is well respected, wealthy, and holds a powerfully close line to the throne… If I asked to court you, would you agree?”
Her shoulders tensed, surprised that he’d be so bold. Not when she’d only been out in society all but a few hours. Grant knew Tristan had feelings for Rose. But, of course, the fact didn’t bother Grant. In fact, he reveled in it, which was precisely the problem.
Her mother watched them eagerly from the sidelines, giving her an encouraging nod.
Defiance reared, knowing her mother would scold her for what she was about to say next.
“I’m flattered. But I’m afraid I’d have to say no.”
Grant wasn’t fazed in the slightest, almost like he’d anticipated her resistance. “Perhaps you’d like to take some time to consider?”
She suddenly pretended to be interested in the white orchids on the far tables. “I don’t think I need to drag it out.”
“Can I ask why you’d offer me so little consideration?”
“Because I know what I am to you.”
“And what is that, pray tell?”
“A chess piece,” she clapped back. “You’re only interested in me because Tristan is. I’m not a pawn for your amusement.”
To her dismay, her rejection only added to his fire. His lips grew into a dangerous smile, clearly not used to being told no. “I danced with you to get underneath Tristan’s skin. That is true.” He didn’t deny his shallowness. “But now, well, I’m curious about you. Not only are you beautiful, but now I’ve discovered you might even have something of substance under that perfect skin. Perhaps you and I are more alike than you realize.”
Her eyes grazed her mother’s, who watched from the sidelines, distressed by being unable to control their conversation.
“I’m sorry.” She refused to be persuaded. “But my answer is still the same.”
Grant’s face, however, didn’t falter. “I expected as much. I admire your loyalty. But I don’t think it’ll take long for your mother to convince you otherwise. She and I have become quite close, you see.”
She cocked her head. “Is that so? How are you so sure?”
Another deadly smile. “Because I’ve already spoken to her and received permission to pursue you.”
Her eyes widened, racing to her mother for confirmation, but she was busy conversing with a small group of men—including Grant’s father.
Grant looked as smug as a feline. “See? They’re thrilled about the prospect already.”
“Well, unfortunately for you,I’mthe one who decides who I’ll court.” She glared at him as she sidestepped with the music.
“We both know people like us don’t get to choose our marriages.” The statement was true enough. “But I’ll be here a while; it may just be enough time for you to change your mind.”
The song couldn’t have ended at a more perfect time. She released his hand and stepped back, offering him a rebellious smile. “I wish you all the luck in the world.”
His smirk spanned the entire width of Cathan, her resistance raising the stakes of his little game. He took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for the dance, Rosalie Versalles.”
Without missing a beat, she marched over to her mother. Just as her mother was about to speak, she caught sight of Rose’s expression and nearly rolled her eyes, asking, “What is it now?”
“Did you give Grant permission to court me?”
Her mother laughed briskly. “He sure gets to the point, doesn’t he?”
Her eyes bulged. “You did!”
“Oh, you’re so dramatic.” Her mother took her elbow and drew her closer, lowering her voice. “I’ve already told you we need to keep your options open, and if Tristan doesn’t work out, Grant may be the next best thing for you. He’s young, handsome, and incredibly rich, with royal blood. His family owns the largest trading company in Cathan. What’s not to like?”
