Chapter 13 – Henry
“Is this where all the grumpy men meet now?”
I hear my cousin’s comment but don’t look away from the spot on the wall I’ve been staring at for the last…however long. The only outward sign I give that I heard Ambrose’s stupid joke is a low grunt.
“Fuck off,” my other cousin, Simon, snaps from his wingback chair near the balcony doors. The glass of whiskey he had been staring into a while ago is now a glass of ice he’s frowning at. We’ve both really progressed over the last hour.
My mood is in the gutter. And my heart…shit, it’s hanging on by a thread.
“Wow. What a warm welcome to the club.”
From the corner of my eye I see Ambrose take a seat on the sofa across from me. At first, I don’t acknowledge him, but I can feel his stare. Something is eating at him.
Interlocking my fingers and letting them hang in the center of my chest, I turn my attention from the fascinating spot on the wall to him. There’s an annoying smirk on his stupid face that I instantly want to smack off. He may be the future king, but as one of my best friends who I think of as a brother, I had no problem bringing him down a peg or two.
“What is wrong with you? Why do you look like that?” Simon demands at his brother from across the room. Not one to be left out, my other cousin flings himself from his chair and makes his way over to us, passing the beverage cart without stopping. He doesn’t sit, instead bracing a hand on the fireplace and staring down into the low flames.
“I don’t look like anything but what I am.” Ambrose smiles. “A handsome prince with a secret.”
“You’re a gossip whore is what you are. Such an unbefitting trait for a royal.”
“Shut it, Simon. The gossip is for Henry.”
“Me? What could you possibly have to tell me?”
The room falls into silence as I wait for Ambrose to tell me what he knows. Just as the gleam in his eye turns into a manic twinkle, the door of the hotel study bursts open. Ambrose and I are sitting with our backs to the entrance, so we don’t immediately see who’s entered. Simon must think nothing of it because he doesn’t move a muscle.
Then I hear it. Her. The melodic sound of her sweet voice.
I’m stunned, frozen in place, not believing that she’s really here. I was going to give her one more day and then I was going to go get her. There was no way I was leaving without her knowing how I felt.
Yet, as she begins talking, I realize one thing. She’s addressing me but not talking to me. She’s directing her attention to Simon’s hunched over form.
What the hell?