Chapter 6
Whiskey, Sarcasm, and Terrible Advice
Alexander collapsed into a leather armchair with a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face. Across from him, Lord Sebastian Hawthorne sipped his whiskey, the amber liquid catching the lamplight as he remained entirely unbothered.
“I take it your meeting with the historian went well?”
Alexander glared at him. “She is, without a doubt, the most insufferable person I have ever met.”
Sebastian perked up immediately, eyes brightening with interest. “Oh, really? Fantastic.” He grinned as he leaned forward, “Tell me everything.”
Alexander did not need encouragement. “She’s some up-and-coming academic who was determined to question everything,” he began, gesturing agitatedly with one hand while the other gripped the armrest. “Every single point. Every carefully curated exhibit section. Every historical highlight. Nothing was good enough for her.”
Sebastian nodded sagely. “Yes, yes. The horror. Someone questioning the great Prince Alexander. The audacity.”
“She implied. No, she outright stated, that we were rewriting history,” Alexander continued, his voice rising as he straightened in his seat. “As if she alone holds the key to some grand hidden truth.”
Sebastian swirled his whiskey thoughtfully. “So, a historian is upset about historical inaccuracies?” he mused. “Truly shocking.”
Alexander ignored him. “She’s also disrespectful,” he went on, still fuming. “She looked me in the eye and smirked. And the tone. God, the tone. It was like she was deliberately trying to provoke me.”
Sebastian rested his chin in his hand, looking thoroughly entertained. “And did it work?”
Alexander scowled. “That is not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Sebastian countered, his grin widening.
Alexander slumped deeper into his chair. “And to make matters worse, I completely humiliated myself before we even met. She overheard me complaining to Davenport about her age, saying she probably only applied because of that ridiculous GQ spread.”
Sebastian nearly choked on his whiskey. “Oh my God. You didn’t.”
“I did,” Alexander admitted, wincing at the memory. “She made it perfectly clear that she was approached for the position and declined twice before accepting. Then she delivered this cutting remark about how the concept of being selected based on merit might be ‘foreign’ to me.”
Sebastian burst into laughter, completely delighted. “She’s going to eat you alive.”
Alexander put his head in his hands. “This is such a nightmare.”
Leaning back in his chair, Sebastian studied Alexander with clear amusement.
“So, let me get this straight,” he said, holding up a hand.
“You met a beautiful woman who isn’t impressed by you, who challenges you, who doesn’t hang on your every word like the rest of the palace staff, and who caught you insulting her before you even met… ”
He paused dramatically. “…And you absolutely cannot stop thinking about her?”
Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Who said she was beautiful?”
Sebastian’s grin turned knowing. “Well, let’s just say I don’t think you’d be this worked up if she were unfortunate looking.”
Alexander let out a frustrated breath, loosening his tie with a quick tug. “She is just another distraction I don’t need. Not to mention that she has a complete lack of respect for the monarchy.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Tragic.”
Alexander leaned forward, the leather creaking beneath him. “She’s also way too confident in her opinions.”
Sebastian clasped his hands together. “Alexander.”
Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. Sebastian continued. “You don’t have to sell me on her, I love her already.”
Alexander groaned, sinking deeper into his chair.
Sebastian tilted his head, watching Alexander spiral into frustration over some woman he had just met. And frankly? It was hilarious.
“Well, if she’s really that insufferable,” Sebastian mused, “you have two options.”
Alexander sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Oh, here we go.”
Sebastian held up a finger. “Option one: Fire her.”
Alexander gave him a flat look. “She was hand-selected by the Royal Historical Commission.”
“And turned them down twice, from what you just told me,” Sebastian reminded him with a smirk.
Alexander glared. “Not helping.”
Sebastian shrugged, the movement casual and unconcerned. “Fine. Option two, then.”
He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Flirt with her.”
Alexander blinked. Then stared at him. Then tilted his head, as if he had misheard. “Come again?”
Sebastian grinned. “Oh, you heard me. Flirt with her. Completely throw her off her game.”
Alexander leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his usually immaculate hair. “That,” he said slowly, “is possibly the worst advice you have ever given me.”
Sebastian held up a hand. “Hear me out. Right now, she’s in control, she’s winning, and you hate it.”
“I do not hate it,” Alexander responded immediately, too quickly.
Sebastian ignored him. “She expects you to be stiff, serious, dismissive,” he continued, “so instead, be charming. Use that royal charm of yours, ask her about her deepest, darkest secrets. Maybe casually roll up your sleeves, look brooding. It works for me.”
Alexander frowned. “I’m not you.”
“I know, it’s a tragedy, really.”
Alexander shook his head, a reluctant smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he said firmly. “I will not be taking your ridiculous advice.”
Sebastian grinned wider. “Oh, I know,” he said. “I just wanted to see your face when I suggested it.”
Alexander rubbed his temples. “I don’t know why I still talk to you.”
“Because I’m the only person who tells you the truth.”
Alexander ignored him, but the slight softening of his expression suggested that, irritating as his friend might be, Sebastian wasn’t entirely wrong.