Dawn of Destiny (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Beatrice signed the end of her current entry before leaving her bedchamber for the day. She felt quite exhausted today, though that was to be expected. She and Ashton hadn't left Solis until nearly dawn. Sneaking back inside had been tedious. Fortunately, Ashton had created a few distractions for her. She smiled to herself now as she thought back to it all. Although, she hoped he hadn't gotten himself into too much trouble.

Life was certainly becoming exciting again.

Out in the corridor, Maribel waited for her. Beatrice rushed to her side, and they embraced each other. The weight of what had occurred yesterday with Samoa and Luc finally lifted off Beatrice's shoulders.

"I've missed you, my friend," Beatrice said, pulling back.

"I missed you, too, Your Highness!"

"How is your cousin?"

"The same." Maribel rolled her eyes.

Beatrice laughed. They linked arms and started walking down the hallway. Her stomach kept growling. She craved bread, particularly a sweet kind, with some berries and tea.

Although it was frowned upon (mostly from her mother), Beatrice insisted Maribel sit with her in the dining hall. Arabella, Victoria, and Emilia were already sitting at the long table, indulging in ham and poached quail eggs. Beatrice and Maribel sat across from them. She informed a servant of she wanted to eat and smiled ahead at her companions.

Beatrice quit smiling, however, when she noticed the uneasiness on their faces and the glare Emilia shot in her direction.

Emilia shifted in her seat and cleared her throat, her expression softening just a bit as she said, "My brother will be getting married in a few weeks."

Beatrice's heart dropped.

"He can hardly contain his excitement," Emilia went on. "It is such an honor for him to be able to call Samoa his future wife." She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "Sometimes, you need to make a few mistakes in life to be find happiness."

Beatrice raised her eyebrows, her blood beginning to boil. "Are you calling me a mistake?"

Emilia feigned an obnoxious gasp and touched her chest. "I did no such thing, Your Highness. However, if you feel the description fits, then who am I to disagree with my princess?" The corners of her mouth rose to form a sickeningly sweet grin.

Beatrice narrowed her gaze, her nails scraping against the dark wood of the table. Emilia ran her fingers through her golden waves, shifting the conversation to a different topic. Beatrice wanted to set that poorly maintained hair on fire. Emilia was so proud of it, too. How shameful it would be if it were ruined by flames.

"I can inform your mother about how disrespectful she is being," Maribel whispered to her.

Beatrice smirked, focusing harder on Emilia's hair. "There will be no need for that, Mar. I don't need my mother for anything."

Victoria started sniffing and drew her eyebrows together. "What is that smell?" she sniffed again. "Something's burning—"

Emilia screamed and leaped from her chair, frantically reaching behind her.

"What is it?" Arabella asked, her face paling. "What's wrong?"

Emilia turned, revealing the flames engulfing her precious locks and already burning through the sheer fabric of her periwinkle blue gown. Victoria joined in on the screaming and impulsively tossed her tea at the fire while Arabella stood and used the cushion from the chair to smack at it.