“Youcan stay home,” Phillip growled.
Charles merely laughed. “If you insist, your highness. Won’t all the ladies of the court be devastated when they learn you’re spoken for?”
Jeffrey laughed at that. “They indeed will! Perhaps I’ll take your place as the resident rogue.”
Phillip glared at his friend, then gave him a devilish grin. “You can try, my friend. You can certainly try.”
But Phillip had no intention of going to Myst Hall. In fact, when they returned home, he would find a way to slip into the night, away from the castle. He wasn’t interested in court politics or a betrothal to a princess he’d never met. What if she’d grown up to be a troll? No, he would find his own way.
He’d pack a bag and leave behind the castle and his princely title forever.
Chapter 6
Rosamundwasrequiredtoattend dinner with her parents and the visiting royals that evening. She was a ball of nervous energy as she sat at the table through each and every course, her hands clasped in her lap when she wasn’t eating. Her mother eyed her from across the table, clearly aware of her fidgeting.
She gave her one of her motherly looks that indicated she wanted her to stop.
Rosamund stilled her hands in her lap and put on her best calm face. But her mother likely suspected she was up to something. And she was.
That afternoon, when she returned to her room, she paced the length of it, trying to decide what to pack. Certainly not gowns. They wouldn’t do if she were to go into the woods or even one of the local villages. She didn’t need to look like a princess. She needed to look like a commoner.
When her maid, Lucy, arrived to dress her for dinner, she eyed the girl up and down and realized with some hope they were close to the same size. Rosamund was a bit taller than she was but even so, she was sure her plan would work.
Well, almost sure.
After dinner, she planned to make her way into the kitchen to filch whatever food she could find to take with her. Since she didn’t know where her next meal would come from, she wanted to be prepared. She also thought about grabbing a water skin to take with her. Then her plan was to sneak into Lucy’s room and take one of her rough-spun gowns to wear.
“Rosamund?” Her mother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she startled.
“Yes?” She sat up straighter and looked at her mother across the table.
“Queen Adele asked you a question.” Her mother’s eyes glinted with annoyance.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it. What was the question?” Rosamund flushed to the roots of her hair under the stern gaze of her mother.
Queen Adele chuckled. “Were you someplace else, dear? You looked lost in thought.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “I suppose I was.”
“I asked if you gave any thought to what your gown might look like,” the queen asked.
“Ah…” Brows drawn together, she looked to her mother who lifted a brow, clearly expecting an answer. “I haven’t actually. All of this happened so suddenly.”
Her mother frowned. But Adele was sympathetic.
“Yes, I suppose it did. Since you had no knowledge of the betrothal until today.”
For a moment, Rosamund thought she could be friends with the queen. Her mother’s frown deepened at Queen Adele’s response. Though the woman didn’t cut her mother a knowing, accusatory glance, her tone said it all.
Her father cleared his throat loudly. “I do realize what an error in judgement it was to keep it from you, Rosamund, but we thought it was for the best.”
“For the best for you?” she fired.
Her mother continued to glare and frown.
“It was likely due to the Fae Royals—” Reginald began.
“That’s enough, Reginald,” Adele interrupted.
