Page 2 of Twins for the Secret Prince
“Son,” his father said, clapping him on the back. “Your mother and I need a word with you before the night is out.”
Pieter gave a curt nod. “Let me get something to eat first. I’m ravenous.”
“That’s because they only feed you tins of beans and sausages,” his mother said, her eyes sparkling. “And gruel for breakfast. Go and fatten yourself up on proper food, and we’ll talk later.”
Just as Pieter was shoveling the first spoonful of delicious shellfish stew into his mouth, he felt a hand on his shoulder anda voice purred in his ear, “It’s a little-known fact that watching a cat eat shellfish is just about the sexiest thing a badger can see.”
“Are badgers known for their voyeuristic tendencies?” Pieter asked, smiling.
“This badger is,” said a voice he knew well.Verywell, at one point in his life. “Hello, Pieter. You’re looking well.”
“So are you, Marianne,” Pieter replied, mirroring her actions and giving her the once-over. “You look gorgeous tonight.” And she did, in her long emerald gown, which fitted over her ample curves as though it had been sculpted to her body.
“It certainly looks like you’re getting in plenty of physical exercise.”
“That’s life in the military.”
“I wouldn’t know. I prefer to get my exercise in other ways, as you might remember.”
Pieter remembered. He and Marianne had had a brief but very memorable affair a few years earlier, and it had ended when she’d given him an ultimatum — marry her, or she’d find someone who would.
“How’s married life?” he asked.
“Boring,” she said, eyes twinkling from underneath the mask. “In fact, I was hoping to perhaps find something to spice up my life tonight.”
“This stew is pretty spicy,” he said.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I was thinking it’s been a while since I saw your bedroom. I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.”
“It hasn’t changed since I was twelve,” Pieter said, which was almost the truth.
“Maybe you could show it to me anyway,” Marianne purred.
“As much as I’d love to, that goes against my moral code.”
“What does? Showing an old friend your private quarters?”
“You’re married, Marianne. That makes you off-limits.”
“Well, I never took you for a boring old curmudgeon,” Marianne said huffily. “Your loss, Prince Pieter.”
Pieter watched as she sidled away with only the briefest of glances over her shoulder. A second later, Tilda was standing by his side.
“I take it she was hoping to rekindle things with you?” she said quietly.
“Maybe,” Pieter said, not wanting to talk about it with Tilda, of all people. “Care to dance?”
“Actually, your father asked me to tell you to meet him and your mother in their private room. They want to talk to you now, apparently.” Tilda gave him an anxious look and added, “Nothing serious, I hope?”
“If you don’t consider their complete disappointment in me nothing serious, then no,” Pieter said, grimacing.
“How could they ever be disappointed in you?”
“For joining the military and not staying here. For refusing to come back to royal duties full-time. For not being my brother.”
To Tilda’s credit, she didn’t try to pretend that any of what he’d just said wasn’t true. “Come on, I’ll walk you there,” she said, looping her arm through his. She was such a good, true friend, and Pieter thought for the hundredth time how disappointed he was in himself for not being able to love her the way she deserved to be.
When they reached the door to his parents’ private chambers, the footman nodded at him, and Pieter told Tilda he’d come and find her afterward. He opened the door and saw his parents dancing together in the center of the room, like it was their own tiny, private ballroom.
