Page 25 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

“I see. Let me guess… he’s the golden boy?”

I shift from one foot to the other. “Sort of. He’s been sick my whole life, so… he got a lot of the attention when we were little. Not that I mind.” I add the last sentence quickly. I’ve spent a lot of my life apologizing for my brother. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. He needed the extra attention. I’d give anything to make him better.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Iris says. “How much of our lives is decided for us at birth. Selena and I are exactly four minutes apart. Four minutes. If I had just shouldered my way through the womb, that crown would be on my head. But no. Selena has always been the more bullheaded of the two of us.”

Her eyes drift toward the thrones. The edge in her voice sends a chill through me. She flicks the edge of her cigarette and lets the black ash embed itself in the carpet fibers. I find myself wishing I hadn’t left the party. “It is bizarre,” I agree, lamely.

Her eyes fix on me again. “Come closer,” she says. “I won’t bite.”

I don’t want to. But I do. I step forward until I’m standing across from her.

Iris sits up. She cups my face in her hand. Her skin is incredibly soft, but her fingers are bony and they latch around my jaw. “You’re such a pretty girl,” she says. “Roland is a sweet boy… I love that man like a son. But he has his mother’s arrogance. Don’t live in his shadow, understand?”

“Yes, Princess,” I say. My bones have gone rigid.

Her lips curl into a sneer. I’ve said something wrong. Was it the princess comment? She drops her hand from my face. “We should rejoin the party, shouldn’t we?” she says.

By we, I can tell she means me. She’s over me.

Fine by me. I’m eager to leave. I skitter backward. “Have a good night,” I try.

But she’s already ignoring me again. Curled up on the chaise, cigarette to her lips. I leave her there, staring at the throne with half-lidded eyes.

15

Ben

I’m a shadow on the fringes of the party. No one sees me, no one notices me. I maintain a clear vantage point to the prince. The last time the palace had this many people in it, we lost Sir Duncan. I need to make sure we don’t lose another royal tonight. Everyone at this party has been vetted, down to the bakers making miniature quiches in the kitchen. I keep my eyes peeled all the same. I recognize a lot of familiar faces, mostly noble houses. The royal staff is here as well.

I watch when Roland takes Rory in his arms. They sway together. Smiling. Staring into each other’s eyes.

They’re having fun. Relaxing. That’s not in my blood.

Then the music stops. I hear a snicker of laughter to my left.

“Check it out. Royal disaster is hitting the dance floor.”

There’s a duke and his lackeys standing beside me, their eyes on Roland and Rory.

“Have you seen the video? Polished his knob like a pro.”

They chuckle. My blood pressure rises.

“Prince and the Slut. Think Disney wrote that one.”

They holler with laughter. All right. Maybe I’m allowed a little fun.

As the duke passes by, I jut my foot out just enough. It’s all it takes. Gravity does the rest for me. He lurches forward, loses his balance, and tumbles straight into the buffet table. As he hits the floor, a full tray of shrimp comes crawling after him. His friends grab him and fuss over each other as the staff quickly sweeps the whole thing under the rug.

I watch on, enjoying the fruits of my small but satisfying victory when my eyes catch a man in the corner. He’s wearing the red-and-gold uniform of the event staff, but when everyone else rushes to clean up the duke’s embarrassing spill, he shies away from the scene. He’s stocky and tall with wide shoulders. I don’t recognize him. I follow him with my eyes. His face is half-covered with a masquerade mask, but I can see a small pink scar poking out from the mask and curving underneath his chin.

“Ben!”

I jump in my spot. Rory has materialized in front of me. I recognize her voice in the nick of time. She has no idea how narrowly she missed getting twisted up in a headlock.

“What?”

Her irises bounce back and forth. She looks frantic. “Where does a girl go when she needs to escape an awkward situation? Maybe you have one of those secret tunnels lying around? Oh! Or a bookcase that leads into a secret room?”

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