Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 7

Servers swarmed the room carrying in trays of steaming food. Sabine brushed past me again, quick as a whisper, placing a plate of food before me. I found it hard not to glance up at her as she lifted the lid, revealing a steaming soup, its cream base complemented by potato dumplings. She drifted off and I caught Prince Pierre's gaze, fixed on me. He arched a brow, sending me a secretive smile before he turned, addressing the courtiers around the table, all of whom vied for his attention.

I focused on my soup, finding though it was delightful, that it didn't sit well. Peels of laughter broke out after Pierre made a joke, and I was quickly forgotten.

Jourdon turned to me, catching me by surprise. Something seemed to be tugging at him and he considered me a moment. I paused, putting my spoon down.

He cleared his throat. "I meant to ask earlier, are your rooms to your liking?"

"Yes," I replied after a short hesitation. "They are very nice, thank you."

His lips remained pressed into a firm line. "Good. I had the maids study Roserian design. I hoped it would make the transition easier for you."

The rooms were Jourdon's doing? I studied him. If he was not a fan of the marriage arrangement, why try to make me comfortable? He had given no indication thus far that he cared even a little that I was here. I wasn't sure what to make of him.

The silence stretched on and I returned to my soup, assuming the conversation was over. Until Jourdon leaned over again. "Sorry about my brother."

I shot him a polite smile. "No need to apologize. He seems nice."

This small talk was pricking at every one of my nerves. It was nice for Jourdon to initiate for once, but I was gathering, based on how he kept glancing around us, that it was mostly for show. He and I not talking a word at dinner would only attract more attention.

My  gaze wandered over to the other prince, who was tilting his head, leaning back to look at me, his eyes glinting. I immediately darted my gaze away, caught off guard. But it was too late, Pierre had already noticed us looking at him.

He leaned over conspiratorially. "What slander is my dear brother already spreading about me?"

Jourdon's jaw ticked and he took a deep sip of his wine, the first time he had touched it all night. "I was apologizing for your tardiness on your behalf, as you neglected to do so."

Pierre's eyes widened, and he pressed a hand to his chest. "Oh dear, how terrible of me! Please forgive me, Princess." His lips curved, not even remotely ashamed. He reached out, clasping my hand in his. Long-pointed nails glittered with bright red paint against my skin. "I did not mean to offend you; I am just horrible at keeping track of time."

His hands were cool against mine, but it didn't do anything to placate the way my cheeks immediately flushed. Something about Prince Pierre was just... too much. Too wild, too extravagant. Kind of like Elliotte, but with more make up and more glitter with a wicked smile... and also very decidedly not my brother.

I carefully withdrew my hand from his. "No need to worry, Your Highness, we were not here long before you. I'm sure you did not mean anything by it."

As per usual tradition, the King would arrive last as he was the highest rank, but because this dinner was to welcome me, Jourdon and I had been supposed to arrive last to the festivities. I could see where Pierre's arrival could be seen as a slight against be, but I saw nothing in him to assume such ill intent. It was likely just as he said--he had lost track of time.

Pierre grinned, and settled an elbow on the table, propping up his chin as he peered at me.

"You are a delight! I am envious, brother. I should hope to find a match half as dazzling as your betrothed."