Chapter 3
As we approach Lord Markell’s massive townhome in the heart of the capital city, Invem, the prince is unusually tense, something I know because I slipped my arm through his soon after leaving the apartment.
He’s never looked more uncomfortable, and I’m starting to think my plan might not be as feasible as I originally hoped.
If he can’t even pretend to relax around me, no one will ever believe there’s a romantic attachment between us. Just like he said.
Looking down at his clenched fists, I tug on his arm enough to slow his steps and get his attention. “I thought you were better than this.”
His jaw tightens. “Meaning?”
“Loosen up, Your Highness, or everyone will think I’m holding you hostage.”
Grunting, he relaxes his arm, but the rest of him stays tense.
“Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not nervous,” he snaps, then grimaces. After two controlled breaths, he shakes his head. “You didn’t exactly give me a lot of time to prepare.”
I laugh. “When have you ever taken the time to prepare?”
“Agent Storme, you—”
“Astrid.” I raise my eyebrows at him when he gives me a confused look. “You’re my date, remember? So you should call me Astrid.”
He grumbles something in Candoran, making me wish I was more practiced in the country’s native tongue. I read it better than I speak it, and this is a clear sign that I’m ill prepared. If anyone’s more likely to speak in Candoran instead of English, it’s the nobility.
Sighing, I add that to my mental to-do list. “Your Highness, if you can’t—”
“Hex.” Rolling his shoulders, he fixes his gaze on the street ahead as we walk. “No one will believe you’re dating Prince Hendrik if you call him anything other than Hex.”
I purse my lips to hide a grin. “Does Hex often speak in the third person?”
He swears under his breath. “Don’t get cheeky on me, Storme, or I might start forgetting why I don’t like you.”
If I could be so lucky. After ten years of enduring his animosity, I’m ready for him to let go of his grudge and at least become indifferent toward me.
Reaching Lord Markell’s property, I quickly note the exterior cameras and security guards. I agree with Hendrik—Hex—that Markell is highly unlikely as a suspect, but there’s always the chance that he has so much security because he has something to hide.
Nerves rise in my throat as we go up the steps to the door, and I wait for Markell to take one look at me and send me away. But I shouldn’t have worried; he only has eyes for the prince.
“Your Highness!” he practically shouts with his head turned toward the interior of his house. He wants his guests to know that a member of the royal family has graced his party. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Hex takes in the guests we can see from here, his expression difficult to read.
He’s usually the life of the party, but he still hasn’t relaxed.
But then he smirks in that cocky way he always does, and all traces of his unease vanish.
“When I heard you were hosting a party, Markell, I couldn’t resist. It’s been a long time since I attended anything worth leaving the palace for. ”
“Any party is better with you in attendance, Prince Hendrik.”
If I needed proof that I recruited the right brother, Markell’s comment was it. If I’d brought Aleksander with me like Hex suggested, people would wonder why he was here. I’ve never seen Aleksander in public without his twin at his side.
With a barely audible scoff, Hex directs me into the house without a backward glance at the host. It’s impressive, the way he ignores the stares and whispered comments we get as we pass guests to get deeper into the party, and I’m grateful for the small buffer he provides.
I knew acting as his date would earn me a lot of notice—notice I’m going to need if I want to get anywhere useful—but I’m not used to being the center of attention.
“Now who’s nervous?” Hex mutters, pulling me to the edge of a large room full of food and curious party guests. He narrows his eyes in a warning look.
“Don’t worry about me, Your Highness. You have your own part to play.”
“Hex,” he reminds me and starts scanning the room.
“Time to split up,” Virek says through our earbuds. As this was my plan, the reminder is more annoying than it is helpful.
Rolling my eyes, I step toward the next doorway to find a less crowded room to start my task of planting listening devices.
Hex tightens his hold. “You’re joking, right?”
Frowning, I search his face for some kind of explanation for his reluctance to let go. “I have a job to do,” I whisper.
“And I have an obligation to look after my date.”
The shiver that runs up my spine is as familiar as it is uncomfortable. I don’t need his protection, but I’ve spent too much brain power over the years imagining what Hex would be like as a boyfriend. I can’t stop the thrill that comes from his intense gaze.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him instead of agreeing.
We’ve been standing here for too long, and people are starting to give us confused looks, so I press my palm to his chest and smooth the silky fabric of his shirt.
If he’s going to insist on being an attentive date, I’ll match his energy.
For now. “All you need to do is put on that charming smile of yours, and not a soul will remember I exist.”
He scoffs. “You have quite the low opinion of yourself, Storme.”
I don’t. I just know my place in this world, and he’s made it clear for a decade that it’s nowhere near him.
“Your Highness,” Virek says, “kindly stop preventing my agent from doing her job.”
As irritation flashes across the prince’s eyes, I use Virek’s distraction to slip out of Hex’s hold and grin at him. “You’ll survive on your own for a bit, Prince.”
Before he can come up with a biting retort, I slip through the milling guests and down the corridor.
There are more guests than I expected at this party, but I’m counting on everyone ignoring me because I’m not one of their kind.
At least long enough for me to plant enough bugs so we can comb through tonight’s conversations.
And then? Then I’ll have to convince Hex to agree to the rest of my plan for the night, and he’s not going to like it.