The Golden Princess (#4 in the GOLDEN series) ✔

•S E V E N•

Chewing on the insides of her mouth, she flipped her gaze to the spot where he'd sat moments before. She couldn't tell him all the thoughts swirling within; the worries that her origins weren't pure, the fear that the blood running in her veins was evil, the paranoia of being embarrassed and unloved. The regret that would engulf her if her new situation turned out worse than what she'd experienced in Totresia.

"I am afraid of my role." She released a trembling breath. "Afraid of being rejected by your people, by my true mother, and by those I am to call family—"

Romain snatched her hands and squeezed them. "I will not have you doubting like so." His squeezing prompted her to gape at his intimidating emerald eyes. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on the collar of his coat instead. "Everyone will love you. You are a real Giromian! You are pure!" He set a finger under her chin and tilted it up. "I already told you, Mother is nothing like that evil wench who raised you. I promise."

She fought his grip as her jaw slid downwards and her face overheated. "But these people have never met me, Mother has not seen me in decades—"

Romain pressed his palms to her cheeks. "Stop it. You are Princess Prudence of Giroma, and our people have longed to meet you for a very long time."

"But will they believe it is me?" Her words were garbled as he continued to squish her cheeks between his gloved hands. "Is there any proof aside from Clémentine's claims?"

Loosening his grasp, Romain kept his fingertips on his sister's jawline. "Mother has the proof: her letters exchanged with Clémentine. If you are so doubtful, surely she will let you read them."

She wanted to contest, to wake the squire and ask him if he accepted her and if he expected the Giromians would grow to love her. But Romain's eyes were aflame, his hands once more about to smoosh her if she argued.

"Fine," she said, angling backwards and disconnecting from her brother's invasive gaze.

He returned to his side of the carriage and folded his arms. "This reunion will be a good thing. I understand your concern, as Totresia was your home for twenty-one years. It was the place you presumed to have been born in, the one you were informed you belonged in. But it was a sham. You are Giromian, and we will celebrate your return for months."

Prudence tried not to snort. How could anyone celebrate her? She was a disappeared Princess, a devastated ex-future Queen of Totresia, a former Duchess in the shadows, a royal mistress.

As if reading her mind, Romain scoffed. "If any rumors of the recent weeks in Torrinni reached Westten, I will clear your name from them. What that King made you do... the ways he made you lie to retain you in his court for his own selfish purposes... despicable. Such things will carry no weight at home. I will ensure all know you never gave him your virtue, and it was all a ruse."

Though her mouth nearly popped open to unleash a tremendous gasp, Prudence clamped her jaw shut. She weaved a strand of curls behind her ear and slowly gauged her brother's deepening frown, his narrowed eyes, his rigid shoulders.

He thinks it was all made-up?

She remained as still as possible, averting her gaze, worried if Romain glanced at her for too long he'd see the truth. He'd see the late-night affair with Antoine was real.

If lying to him and insisting the adventure with the Totresian King was an act meant she might preserve her reputation, she had to do it. Her place at the Giromian court might depend on it. Would he or her mother or their people love her as much if they knew she did give her innocence to Antoine—and enjoyed it?

Shame bubbled in her gut and her temples flared with pain—she hated lying. "A ploy, yes." She sneered, feigning her best disgusted face. "All to keep me to himself."

If he doubted her, Romain didn't show it, his grimace still in place as he huffed. "Indeed. I assume he knew nothing of your origins, but I believe he would have kept you, regardless. He is unworthy of you. He helped his mother in her schemes, willingly or not. I cannot be sure his father told him nothing of who you are; not if he was to become King and hold the country's secrets. I respect him to a point, but I will never, ever, forgive him."

Prudence nodded, but on the inside, she maintained Antoine had no knowledge of his parent's plots.

And yet, as she let Romain's words sink in, a taste of betrayal formed on her tongue. Had Antoine ever been fully sincere with her? Or did he work undercover for his mother, incognito to his brothers and his sister?

Her forehead throbbed, and her gut twisted into knots. There were too many theories, too many horrid thoughts, and no means to obtain answers.

She'd left Antoine and his gruesome mother behind, and she needed to move past their manipulations. She needed to look towards her new life.

Romain slanted forward and patted her hand. "All will be well once we arrive. Set your soul at ease. I will let no one harm you again." He flinched, and though he kept his hand on hers, he peered at the floor. "I must apologize for all my past harshness. If I had known it was all a fib, and that you were my blood, I never would have—"

"—I know." She topped his hand with her other and shook her head, praying her expression wouldn't betray the truth, wouldn't divulge all the emotions she'd shoved within. "It is all right. You believed me to be allied to your enemy, you viewed me as dirty." She mustered a grin, though it hurt her lips. "I would have acted the same way in your shoes."

He smiled, then removed his hand and set it behind his head. "Get some rest. We will be home soon."

She watched as he closed his eyes, comfortable, unaffected by their rocking carriage.

She'd tolerated his touch, but she couldn't decide if she'd pardon his transgressions and cruelties. Would she ever dissolve his hateful words, all those times he'd cornered her in the Torrinni Castle hallways and made her despise herself?

I must. He is my brother. And my King.

She prayed Antoine and Céleste and Cordelia—those privy to the reality of her predicament—would keep their mouths sealed. Her story was flimsy, but until she could write to them and beg them to keep up the charade, she had to hope they still had her interests at heart. She trusted Cordelia with discretion and believed Céleste wouldn't spread rumors to ruin her reputation. And Antoine would never harm her on purpose. Would he?

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