Page 6 of How Not to Marry a Prince

He hadn't even been at Harridor Palace a full day, and already Ottokar was ruining everything. "I assure you that I'm my own worst enemy, Your Majesty. You must tell me how I can make amends for being so rude and troublesome."

Sohan's frown deepened, but he only said, "What I want is to hear the truth of the matter, but we'll discuss that later. I'll see you at breakfast, Your Highness." He motioned to his bodyguards, which numbered six in total, and two of them parted from the others as the rest escorted Sohan away, trailed by a wide-eyed Nazaire and his friend, who regarded Amador far more pensively than he liked.

Swallowing the thorny lump in his throat, he sloughed more water from his clothes as best he could, removed his sodden boots so he wouldn't ruin the floors again, and headed off. The bodyguards followed him, but Amador didn't have the stomach to ask them why or tell them not to bother. All he wanted was to find the nearest hole in the ground and crawl into it.

Instead, he returned to his rooms, waved off the alarm of his staff, and got cleaned up and freshly dressed. So much for his favorite jacket. The delicate velvet was not made to endure such a rough and thorough soaking, so off to the scrap heap it would have to go.

A stupid thing to be so upset over, but he had truly loved that jacket.

And as long as he focused on the jacket, he wouldn't think about looking like the stupidest, most helpless person in the world in front of King Sohan. Thank the gods he didn't actually need to convince Nazaire to marry him, because if that had still been the plan, it would be utterly ruined.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Amador fussed with his clothes, jewels, and hair, as though he might magically come upon some tweak that would make him beautiful and alluring, so appealing that King Sohan would forget all about princes crashing into him and practically drowning in front of him.

Ugh. What did he even care what King Sohan thought? What any of them thought? He was lingering because he was a hopeless romantic who wanted to see if he could get the gardener and his prince together. That hardly required impressing anyone, least of all a king.

Even if he was a stupidly handsome king with lovely eyes and strong, warm arms, who was kind enough to fish a stupid prince from a pond himself—

Ugh. Whatever. Amador jerked away from the mirror, ignored the concerned stares of his staff, and stepped into dove gray buckled shoes that matched his breeches and dusty lavender jacket. Not nearly as handsome as the bottle green one, but it would suffice for making him presentable.

If only he could have managed to look impressive.

Amador shoved the useless, treacherous thought aside. He didn't need to look impressive, and he didn't want to look impressive. Presentable was more than good enough.

"I've no idea when I'll be back, so feel free to spend your days however you like," Amador said, mustering a smile for his staff, the only three people in the world who'd chosen him instead of his family. "Thank you, for everything. I always appreciate everything you three do. I wouldn't be here without you."

"We hope your day improves, Your Highness," said Edu, and the other two bobbed their heads in agreement.

"Thank you." Amador departed—and drew up short in the hallway as he saw the two bodyguards remained right where he'd left them. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd be waiting for me, or I'd have been quicker about getting cleaned up and dressed again."

The guards seemed faintly amused, but the taller of the two only said, "His Majesty bid us escort you until told otherwise. We serve at your pleasure, Your Highness; there's no need to hurry on our behalf. Shall we on to the dining hall?"

"Yes, please, thank you."

Why in the world would His Majesty assign his own bodyguards to follow Amador around? Had he proven to be so alarmingly incompetent he needed to be protected from himself?

The urge to ask them to find Ottokar and beat him out of existence was strong, but Amador couldn't truly bring himself to request outright murder, even if Ottokar's death would only bring more peace to the world.

Instead he walked in silence, mentally rehearsing all the things he would like to say, charmingly and effortlessly, to His Majesty while knowing full well he'd just fumble all of it and sound like an utter cake.

"I'm a royal prince, I can act like it," Amador muttered to himself.

He swore one of the guards snorted, but before he could figure it out for certain, they were sweeping through the enormous open double doors of the dining hall. Being a prince of no consequence, Amador could have picked any available seat, but the bodyguards swept him onward through the room, right up to the royal table, where he was all but shoved into a chair directly across from King Sohan and Prince Nazaire.

"Um, good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness. I apologize again for my shameful clumsiness from earlier. You did not have to put guards on me."

Looking faintly amused, probably because he knew full well he didn't have to do anything he didn't want, Sohan replied, "After yesterday's fright and today's assault, I want to ensure such things don't happen a third time. I'll not have my guests so mistreated, least of all by other guests."

Wonderful, he'd somehow sussed out at least some of the truth of the matter, that Amador was utterly useless and pathetic whenever Ottokar was even remotely nearby. "It's my own carelessness to blame, nothing more," Amador said anyway.

Sohan's mouth tightened, but he only said, "I hope you are unhurt from your fall?"

"I'm hale and hearty, Your Majesty. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you, truly."

Next to Sohan, Nazaire snorted a laugh. "Trouble. Hardly, Your Highness. If you want to see what trouble really looks like, you should attend the council meeting this afternoon. As my guest, even." He grinned. "I would be honored."

"The honor would be mine," Amador said, not certain what else to say, feeling very much like he was missing something. "Still, it cannot be every day His Majesty ruins his own clothes and wastes his valuable time fishing clumsy princes from fishponds."

"You'd be surprised," Sohan said dryly. "Enough of that, though. You come from Tesh Kingdom, Your Highness, do you not?"

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