Page 26 of How Not to Marry a Prince

"I think the two of you are simply seeing hearts everywhere," Amador replied, his own stupid heart racing anyway.

Marcellette scoffed, and after Vladlena had refilled all their glasses, lifted hers, "To love and mischief."

Amador smiled as he lifted his own glass. "To love and mischief."

They drank until the champagne and the food were gone, and Amador's head spun so much that he'd probably hate everything when he woke up.

Leaving the glass room, they giggled and stumbled their way through the halls, assisted by Amador's amused-looking bodyguards.

Once he'd seen Marcellette and Vladlena to their room, Amador shuffled off to his own, head filled with champagne and daydreams. In his room, he waved off Bibiana, who ignored him and with soft snickers helped him get undressed and into bed, where she made him drink a horrid tasting tonic before finally permitting him to sleep.

He woke hours later to someone pounding on his door, though whether it was urgency or excitement, Amador couldn't tell. He dragged his eyes open with a groan as he sat up, but though his head ached, it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared it would be. "Who in the world could that be?"

Climbing out of bed, he pulled on a dressing robe just as Bibiana opened the door. A moment later, she opened it wide enough to admit someone, and Nazaire came rushing into the room, eyes sweeping, and brightening as he spotted Amador. "There you are!"

"Here I am?" Amador replied, and yelped as Nazaire swept him up into a tight hug. "Um. Good morning."

Nazaire laughed. "Going on lunch, actually. I am told I have you to thank for locking Léonce in my room last night."

"That didn't take long," Amador said with a smile. "I hope he's not too put out with me."

"No, not even a little bit. Between helping us and helping Marcellette and Vladlena, you've been quite busy. Even Lipovsky is singing your praises, and I don't think I've ever heard him say anything nice about anyone." He hugged Amador again, then shook him gently. "Come, come, you must get dressed! Lots to do today! Including meeting with my brother before he worries and sulks himself to death."

Amador shook his head, laughing as he went to get dressed as told. "I hardly think His Majesty is sulking because of me."

"The lack of you, strictly speaking," Nazaire said, "and he most definitely is."

Shooting Nazaire a disbelieving look, Amador hurried off. He gave Bibiana a look as she pulled out his beautiful sky blue jacket with gray pinstripes and matching gray breeches, paired with boots of a slightly darker gray and glittering diamonds for jewelry. "Seems a bit much for going to lunch."

"Seems perfect for being courted by a king," Bibiana said breezily, finishing off with the perfume that Sohan had given him. "Off with you. Shoo."

Face hot, Amador obediently shooed. Nazaire brightened to see him, and before Amador could so much as get a word out, was dragging him off through the palace, the bodyguards barely able to keep pace.

As they approached the main hall, though, a group of people crossed their path at an intersecting hallway. Amador went cold as his eyes landed on Ottokar.

Strangely, Ottokar didn't say a word, and it was only then that Amador realized that the men walking on either side of him were holding him.

"You're supposed to be gone already," Nazaire said coldly, moving to stand slightly in front of Amador.

Another man, handsome and graying, broke from the crowd. "There was an unavoidable delay, Your Highness. The matter is settled now, though, and I am escorting His Highness home personally. Prince Sanz, I apologize profusely for the way Prince Ottokar has treated you. I've already sent a written report of the matter, and will repeat it in person to Their Majesties upon my arrival. You never should have been treated so, and it will not happen again."

"It had better not," said a new voice, and Amador couldn't help the hot rush of anticipation that swept through him as he registered Sohan's voice. "As we have all crossed paths, I think Prince Amador deserves to hear directly from the source why he was treated so abysmally."

Ottokar said nothing, simply glared hatefully at all of them. One of his eyes was blackened, as though he'd been punched, and there was a cut that spoke to a ring the assailant had worn.

"Fine then," Sohan said, when even the gray-haired man, who must be an ambassador or something, was silent and shame-faced. "Prince Ottokar has a reputation for… mistreating people, shall we say, and that is only the tamest of the scandals he's worked hard to smother. His parents issued an ultimatum: marry you, which would be a strong enough union to forgive the troubles and embarrassment he's caused them, or he would be disowned at the end of this year."

Amador's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"If only he'd learned something instead of simply digging in his heels. Get rid of him."

The men holding Ottokar resumed walking, all but dragging him along with them, the gray-haired man trailing behind a few paces, his face set with deep lines.

Once they were gone, Nazaire released his hold on Amador's arm. "I was going to drag you to lunch, so we could sing your praises and demand details of all the stories we've heard, but I believe my brother is about to pull rank, so I'll see you later." He hugged Amador one last time, then headed off down the hall, whistling the whole way.

Leaving Amador and Sohan alone, save for the unassuming bodyguards.

Offering his arm, Sohan smiled and said, "Might I steal a few moments of your time, my prince of the hour?"

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