Page 5 of Spearcrest Prince

I smile. “I try. It’s not earning me a living yet.”

“Earn a living!” She laughs airily, waving her hand at me. “You’re so funny!”

I wasn’t trying to be funny, but I keep smiling anyway. My time in Spearcrest doesn’t need to be unpleasant if I play my cards right. All I need to do is get the qualifications I need. Aside from that, my plan is to make my life as easy as possible.

“So,” Kay says, clapping her hands together and startling me once more. “Are the rumours true, then?”

“What rumours?” I ask with a frown.

“The rumours about you”—she lowers her voice conspiratorially—“and Séverin Montcroix.”

When I moved here, it was with every intention of keeping my distance from Séverin. Just like me, he’s been thrown into this engagement against his will, and I assumed he would wish to keep as far away from me as possible. A wish I was ready to honour. If I’m honest, I didn’t even expect him to tell anyone he was engaged at all.

I certainly did no such thing.

But he must be chattier than I imagined, and I suppose that makes sense. If there’s anything I’ve learned over the years of being forced to rub elbows with the French bourgeoisie, it’s that they love to gossip.

So what to do now?

I don’t want to confirm whatever rumours the beautiful Kay seems so eager to discuss, but I don’t want to lie either. Mostly, I want to find out where that crow made his nest and crawl into that little bed of twigs until it’s time to leave this cold and rainy country.

“Well?” Kay asks, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “Are you and him really… engaged?”

I give a noncommittal shrug and cringe against the corner of my little windowsill. If I close my eyes and dream of the stars, what are the chances that I’ll manifest myself away from here and spin into the cosmos?

“Okay, look,” Kay says warmly, waving a jewelled hand at me, “you don’t have to tell me anything for now. Why don’t we have a natter over a few drinks? A few of us are going off-campus next week to party in London. Do you fancy it?”

I peer up into Kay’s golden-brown eyes, weighing my options. If I say no, I might risk offending Kay, my potential first friend in Spearcrest. A friend is something I would like, but not something I need. Back in France, I only had a handful of close friends—they were all I needed. As for Spearcrest, I’m only here for a year. I’ll be fine alone.

After all, I came here with a clear plan:

Give Séverin ample space.

Make things as easy for myself as possible.

Get my qualifications.

Get through the year unscathed and ready for my escape.

There’s nothing in my plan about not taking the hand of friendship if it’s presented to me, especially when that hand is attached to such a warm and beautiful person.

I nod, smiling up at Kay. “That sounds lovely, actually. Thank you.”

She claps her hands together. “Oh, gorge! I can’t wait. You know, I’ll be skiing in Megève this winter. I’ll practise my French on you so I can hit on all the cute French boys—oui?”

“Oui, pourquoi pas.”

Reaching into her tiny Chanel bag, she pulls out her phone and flicks it open with a fingertip. “Here, put your number into my phone. I’ll text you the details.”

Since it’s a brand-new UK number, I don’t know it, and for a second, the feral animal part of my subconscious squawks at me to enter a random number. Giving my phone number to strangers isn’t something I particularly like. I barely even like giving my number to people Idoknow.

Mostly, I only like using my phone to swap pictures and texts with Noël.

But Kay’s been nothing but kind and friendly. Giving her a fake phone number would feel… ungracious.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the number and then enter it into Kay’s phone before handing it back to her. She takes it with a wide, sunny grin.

“Super!” she says in a perfect French accent. “Alors, à bientôt!”

---