Chapter 8
EIGHT
Pip's tail is going so fast that I think it might be about to fall off. I don't know if she's just in a good mood, or if she can sense that I'm in a better place. I don't suppose it matters. My dog's happiness is one of the reasons I don't mind being at court.
I push open the door to the dining room, somewhat relieved that it's just Bella sitting there. Bastian might show up at some point, but at least we'll have some peace until then. He's definitely not a morning person.
"Thank you," I say brightly to the servant who brings me my blood.
Another sets down Pip's bowl, and she waits patiently until I give her the command, only to gobble up her food the moment I give it.
"You're in a good mood," Bella says, watching me warily.
"I am," I respond. "Though you could have told me that Lincoln was the prince."
She raises an eyebrow. "You weren't aware?"
"Not until yesterday, no." Maybe I shouldn't admit that to her, but Bella likes honesty, so I don't see the problem with it.
"I assumed he would have told you when you were first introduced."
"We weren't really introduced as such," I admit. "We met by chance. Twice, actually."
"Ah."
I pick up a pastry. "And he thought I knew already, so he didn't tell me. And I didn't exactly think to ask, because why would I be lucky enough to accidentally end up with feelings for the person I'm betrothed to?"
"I had such hopes for you," Bella laments.
I roll my eyes. "Let's guess? Don't fall in love with your husband."
"Yes. I told you, several times. You're going to end up hurt."
"Maybe. But isn't it worth it? I'll have had a good marriage to a good man. Everyone dies eventually, it's a good thing to make the most of the moments." It's hard not to feel optimistic given the turn of events, especially now it's properly sunk in that I'm betrothed to Linc.
"I suppose...oh no, you can stop right there." She waves her knife at me. "You are not going to turn me into a romantic just because you like a prince."
"I liked him before I knew he was a prince," I murmur.
"That's even worse. Your kind of thinking is contagious, Beatrice, you're not going to do that to me."
I shrug, not really believing her. The way she's talked the whole time makes me think she believes in love and emotions more than she's letting on. She's just good at hiding it. "I'm not trying to convince you of anything," I point out.
"Maybe not. But all of this joy and happiness is going to get old fast. Next, you'll be saying that your brother is a wonderful man who can never do anything wrong."
"Everyone has vices."
"See. It's already clouding your judgement," she responds. "Oh, Beatrice. And here was me thinking that you had such a bright future ahead of you."
"I'm happy, not deluded," I assure her. "Bastian is Bastian."
She narrows her eyes at me. "Hmm."
As if summoned by our conversation, the door opens and Bastian strides inside, an unhappy expression on his face.
"You must be so looking forward to your wedding, cousin," Bella says to him with false sweetness.
He scowls at her. "Your husband isn't here to defend you today," he reminds her.
She shrugs and picks up her glass. "I can take care of myself." The way she looks at the empty seat beside her is interesting.
It's hard to work out what her true feelings are towards her husband, though I suspect they lie somewhere between the indifference she claims is wise towards husbands, and actual feelings. Though I doubt she'll ever tell me which.
"Lady Ermentrude seems nice," I say, hoping to soothe what I think might be Bastian's temper towards the woman. It isn't her fault she's been chosen as his future wife. "And she's an excellent dancer."
"I don't care how good of a dancer she is." He snatches his blood from the servant who brings it to him.
"You should. She's going to be your wife, she represents you, and House Rothorne. How she dances is part of that," I point out. "And if you get to know her, maybe it won't be so bad."
"I don't want to know her," Bastian snaps. It seems that the pleasant brother from my dress fitting is well and truly gone. I shouldn't be surprised, and yet there's a part of me that is.
"Maybe you should, it does make marriage more tolerable," Bella responds, picking up a slice of bread from her plate and eating it. "Though not all of us can be as lucky as Beatrice."
I blink at her a few times, surprised to hear her say as much when she's already told me once today that love is an issue.
"Why is Beatrice lucky?" Bastian asks, looking at me.
"You really are twins," Bella mutters under her breath.
"She means nothing by it," I say hastily.
"Mmm. The Prince agreed to come to dinner," he says to me.
"Of course he did," Bella murmurs, but Bastian ignores her.
"It'll be after the announcement of your betrothal," he says.
I smile at him and reach out to touch his hand.
"Thank you for sorting that out." I'd actually forgotten that he'd said he was going to try and sort out dinner in the haze of finding out that Linc is the one I'm betrothed to.
And considering that I now do know, it seems a little less important to have find out who the Prince is meal.
Though now I can't help but think about the disaster that could have been if I'd found out that Linc was the Prince during a formal dinner with my brother in attendance. Especially because now I do know, I'm not looking forward to them being in the same room.
But that's a problem for later.
I finish my breakfast and get to my feet.
"Where are you going?" Bastian asks.
"I'm walking Pip before my meeting with our father."
His face takes on a strange expression. "You have a meeting with him?"
"Erm, yes. To talk about my ladies-in-waiting," I say quickly.
My brother doesn't look particularly pleased about that, but he doesn't say anything about it. Probably because there's nothing to say. It's a conversation Lord Fallmartin and I need to have, and it ultimately has nothing to do with him.
I take my leave of the dining room with Pip running after me.
At least I'll be able to take a walk now to clear my head before sitting down with the man who changed my life forever when he brought me to Castle Sanulieon.
And I'm still not sure whether that's going to turn out to be a good thing or not.