Chapter 6

POV: Cat

Prince Leopold stood in the center of the hall, swaying slightly on his feet. The pedestal table was on its side, the pretty vase in pieces. Shards of seafoam coloured glass shimmered on the floor around him.

I squared my shoulders. Refused to be afraid. Refused to let him make me feel as small as he had earlier.

He stood there, unmoving, running his eyes over me. I stared back, determined not to be the one that broke first.

The Prince was in the same suit as that morning, but he'd lost his jacket since I'd last seen him. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot. The sleeve of his white dress shirt had been sloppily rolled to his elbows. I swallowed thickly, following the veins in his muscled forearms down to his left hand, my eyes finally stopping on his bloodied knuckles.

"Are you okay?" I said. Without thinking, I stepped towards him, and the broken vase, reaching for his hurt hand.

"Careful," he murmured.

I gasped as he took hold of my fingers, using my momentum to spin me away from the glass on the floor.

My back pressed against the wall. The Prince pressed against me.

I could feel the heat of his skin through my robe. Smelled the alcohol on his breath and the smoke clinging to his shirt. He rested a hand against the wall, one on either side of my head, caging me between his arms.

My mouth went dry.

He was tall. At least a head taller than I was. My gaze wandered upwards, from his muscled chest, to the strong line of his collarbone and jaw, his full lips, until my eyes finally met his. One blue, one brown, both hazy from booze and whatever else he might have taken.

The muscles in my stomach tightened.

He might have been a bastard, but God he was gorgeous.

"Why are you here?" he said, accent thick.

"I heard the noise, I thought someone might need help, I–" I stopped. I wasn't sure why I was defending myself when he was the one lurking in the hallway. "You're hurt. What happened?"

"Nothing of consequence," the Prince said, distracted. He licked his lips. "What do you want to happen? Why are you here?"

I wasn't sure what he was asking, if he meant it to sound as sexual as I was interpreting it. If he meant here like on earth, in the castle, here in this moment, pinned against the wall wanting nothing more than to taste his mouth on mine.

My nipples tighten against the soft fabric of my robe. "I, uh…"

"This?" He leaned in closer, his lips gently running down my neck.

My breathing hitched.

I knew I needed to push him away, but couldn't move. Could hardly speak.

My hands moved up on their own accord, grabbing hold of the fabric over his muscled chest.

He hummed, waiting for an answer. "Is this why you're here, Cat? Would you like to tell everyone you've been fucked by a Prince?"

The lusty haze was gone in an instant, replaced once more by hatred and furry. "How dare you–" I began. The grabbing turned into pushing as I tried to get out from the cage he wrapped me in.

A sharp gasp pieced the silent hallway, making me jump. Prince Leopold pressed closer, blocking me from whoever had broken the moment.

There was a quick flurry of french. A woman's voice.

I ducked down, looking under the Prince's bicep.

Angelique was a few feet away, pushing a trolly with all sorts of silver containers on it. My dinner, no doubt.

I felt myself blush and pushed harder against Prince Leopold. "Get off."

Great, now my maid was going to think I was some sort of floozy. I hoped to God this it wasn't in her job description to report this sort of thing to Mr. Arsenault...or the King.

"Hey," I said, running to her side and away from the prince. "I was just…looking for the wifi password."

Seeming to realize there was no threat and no chance in hell I was going to fuck him, the Prince stepped back, towards the last last door at the end of the hall.

My stomach tightened as I realized that they had put my bedroom in the same hall as his. I was in Prince Leopold's wing of the castle.

Great. I'd just practically dry humped the asshole. Now, I needed to sleep tonight knowing he was in the room next to me.

They might not be forcing us to get married, but someone was definitely trying to force us together.

The next morning, Angelique led me through the castle halls to a small dining room.

The Royal family was already there when I arrived...well most of them.

"Morning," I said, feeling my cheeks blush. I really hoped none of them had heard what had happened with the Prince in the hall last night. I didn't want the rest of them to think I'd only come for sex and money.

Not that I was against either of those things. I had morals though. And the Prince broke just about everyone one of them.

The King was seated at the head of the table, Henri standing beside him. They seemed to be in discussion over something in the newspaper that the King was holding.

"Good morning, Catherine," Queen Charlotte said. "Did you sleep well?"

She was seated to the left of the King, gently stirring a delicate teacup.

"Like a log," I said, relieved that the first thing out of her mouth hadn't been accusations. I'd seen Bridgerton. I knew how these rumor mills worked. "Where should I…?"

There were three empty chairs at the table. The end opposite the King, and two chairs on his right side. I'd watched enough period dramas to know that there was some sort of protocol to follow here.

"Here," Henri ran around to my side, pulling out one of the chairs closest to me. The one beside the empty seat at the head of the table.

I was willing to bet who it was reserved for and hoped that I was wrong.

I sat down, and a woman suddenly appeared. She spoke quietly in french.

"Ah…" I replied, not knowing what she wanted.

"She's asking if you want coffee," Princess Lupa said.

"Yes, please," I squeaked. The maid nodded and then disappeared.

"Thanks," I said to Lupa.

"Do you like sweet or savoury?"

"Sweet, I guess."

"I'll order you something," the princess said, and popped a strawberry into her mouth. She looked fierce this morning. In a black dress, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, lips bright red.

I looked down at my jeans and crop top, once again feeling completely under dressed. I was gonna have to do something about that. Maybe they would let me out of the palace to go shopping.

The King sighed, and folded the paper onto the table stop. I cranked my neck, trying to get a look, to see what they'd been talking about.

There were two pictures on the front page, one of the helicopter I'd arrived in last night, the other seemed to be of two men in a fistfight in the middle of a street.

I remembered Prince Leopold's bloodied knuckles. I'd thought he cut them on the vase.

"Do you speak any other languages?" the Princess asked.

I turned my attention back to her. "Only a little Spanish from school."

"Any hobbies?" Her green eyes were intent on me, something feline in her gaze.

I shrugged. "I like to read. Watch movies. Listen to music."

Me and everyone else on the planet.

"What are you in school for?" Henri asked. He put a forkful of bacon in his mouth.

I felt my cheeks blush, knowing another very boring answer was coming. "I haven't decided on a major yet."

I bit my cheek. This round of twenty questions really wasn't working in my favour. I was the epitome of normal and average. Especially when surrounded by Superman and a horse riding Victoria's Secret model.

I was about to ask what the article in the newspaper was about, just to get them to stop questioning me, when the dining room doors opened.

Prince Leopold slowly walked into the room. He was wearing the same clothes as last night, only not he was barefoot, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes.

A swirl of lust and anger surged in my chest.

He plopped down at the head of the table, opposite the King. The maid rushed over, quickly filling his mug before arriving to fill mine.

Clearly she had her priorities in order.

"Leopold," the King said. "So good of you to join us."

The King slid the newspaper down the table. It crashed into Leopold's mug, making coffee spill out onto the newsprint.

The Prince ran a hand through his hair and murmured something in French.

"We have a guest," the Queen said softly, without looking up from her plate of egg whites.

Prince Leopold sighed, then spoke again in English. "It wasn't my fault."

I shifted in my chair. Half of me was dying to know what was about to happen next. The other half was really wishing they would just switch back to french so I wasn't implicated in whatever they were about to speak about.

The King raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Prince Leopold's bruised knuckles. "It looks like you are at least in part to blame."

"He said–" Leopold began to defend himself.

"It doesn't matter what they said," the King said calmly. "They news should have been about Catherin's arrival. Instead, it's about how you were out galavanting the night she arrived."

The maid arrived at my side again then. She placed a beautiful place of fruit and pastry and chocolate down in front of me.

I looked up at the Princess, who winked at me over her coffee cup. Her face lit up. "Why don't you take Catherine for a ride through the gardens, Lo?"

Suddenly, my appetite vanished. And here I thought the princess was on my side. Really, she was just buttering me up with chocolate before pushing me into my worst nightmare.

"That's a wonderful idea," Queen Charlotte agreed.

They were all traitors.

"Absolutely not," Prince Leopold said. "The gardens are open to the public today."

Princess Lupa smiled, unbothered by her brother's sour tone. "Exactly."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I've never been on a horse before," I told them. It was true. Well, aside from the ponies at a carnival. I was pretty sure they didn't count, though.

Normally, I'd be up for learning to ride a horse through a castle garden. Sounded pretty fucking magical to me, in fact. Until you added one hungover, bastard prince as the tour guide.

Hard pass.

"It's very easy," the olympic level rider Princess told me. "Lo can teach you."

"It is a good idea, Leopold," the King said.

Prince Leopold sighed heavily. Then, without looking at me said, "Meet me in the foyer in fifteen minutes."

Then he grabbed his coffee mug, pushed himself back from the table, and left the dining room.

I guessed there was no getting out of this now. I pushed my plate away, sad I never got the chance to take a bite, but knowing my stomach wouldn't handle that much chocolate, horses, and a dickwad prince.

"Well, then, excuse me," I told the Royal family, and took my jeans and crop top back to my room so Angelique could help me figure out what the hell to wear on a horse.