Chapter 20
A week later and I didn’t need to ask; I knew Hannah was miserable. I’d had to go back to work, and between all my duties, both in the guard and on the newly formed charity board in honor of Julien andmon Père,I’d hardly seen my girl over the past few days. She’d filled her time with sightseeing trips in the company of her security team. Unfortunately, we hadn’t had time yet to checkout the local universities or find out what Hannah needed to do to enroll.
The media coverage had only gotten worse since our casino night. Everyone wanted to know every detail about Hannah’s life and what made her worthy of a prince’s attention. It made me sick the way they’d dissected everything about her—her hair, her face, her clothing, her figure, all of it was up for public commentary.First it’d been favorable—“Copy Hannah’s departure look” kind of stuff—but inevitably the haters came out with their “She’s not good enough for a prince” bullshit. Hannah didn’t say much, but I could tell that it all hurt her deeply and left me feeling powerless to help her. The pictures the press had made such a big deal about at our casino night turned out to be from a friend’s bachelorette partythat Hannah had attended. Regular, harmless stuff—mostly Hannah wearing the requisite dildo necklace—but they’d completely blown it out of proportion.
I’d had the palace issue a public statement asking the press to give Hannah and her family the respect and peace they deserved, but it did little good. Actually, since such a statement had never been issued before, it seemed to double the press’sefforts in finding out everything they could. By issuing the statement I’d tacitly confirmed our relationship, and then the press became ravenous for whatever they could dig up on Hannah.
And it hadn’t taken long for Hannah’s car accident and subsequent injury and rehabilitation to make the papers. Old friends were eager to dish the dirt on their friend. Hannah had been heartbroken at the betrayal.
But the disclosure had done the impossible, and truly brought my mum onboard. I’d worried that her apology hadn’t been as heartfelt as I first thought, since Mum had avoided Hannah the first few days. But once the news of Hannah’s injury broke, she went out of her way to make Hannah feel welcome and give her a shoulder to lean on. Bastien, on the other hand, was MIA. Between government obligationsand wedding planning, I hadn’t seen him since our row—which was fine by me. Until that bastard learned to loosen up, I didn’t want to spend any time with him, either.
Everything came to a head at the charity ball we were to attend that night. Despite the fact that I’d spoken with my mum days before, when we arrived at the Greiner Forum there was no place for Hannah at our table.
“I’m sure it’san oversight,mon chou.I’ll get one of the staff to sort us out.” I kept my arm around Hannah, but I could see the stress in her eyes.
She looked lovely tonight, dressed in one of the gowns she’d tried on in Las Vegas. The blood-red gown was striking and highlighted her long, wavy blond hair to perfection. But the little lines around her eyes and the way she kept biting her lower lip beliedher air of ease. Hannah wasn’t comfortable. And ever since this morning, she’d been distant as well. I was hoping it was simply a case of homesickness, but I made a promise to myself to get to the bottom of it once the gala was over.
I flagged a passing waiter and pointed out the seating error to him.
“We need another setting at this table. I’m afraid my date’s seat has been overlooked.”
“Oui, monsieur. Straight away.” The waiter bent almost in half with his effusive apologies and over-the-top bows.
“Belay that order,” Bastien commanded from my side. “There has been no oversight. Ms. Allen is simply sitting at another table. If you’ll follow me, my dear.”
Bastien attempted to take Hannah’s hand, but she tugged it away and took a step back from both of us.
“That’s all right. Ifyou’ll just tell me the table number, I’m sure I can find it myself, Your Highness,” Hannah said, looking anywhere but at either of us.
I frowned. This didn’t make any sense. “Hannah should be sitting next to me. Not all alone at another table.”
“She won’t be sitting all alone,” Bastien said. “There are nine other people at her table that will no doubt be happy to get to know her. You’re attable eighty-two. I believe it’s on the back wall over on the left side.”
“This is ridiculous. There is no reason why we can’t get another chair and setting and—”
“Shoehorn her in at our table?” Bastien finished with a look of haughty disdain. “This is what happens when you don’t give advance notice. The table assignments have been set for months. It would be beyond tacky to change things nowat the last minute.”
“It wasn’t the last minute. I told Mrs. Moreau two days ago.”
“And two days ago she found a setting for Ms. Allen at table eighty-two.”
“Fine, then I’ll join Hannah at table eighty-two.” I glared at my brother; the look of haughty disdain on his face had my hands itching to wipe it off. During her time in Monaco, Bastien hadn’t even tried to get to know Hannah. And judgingby tonight, he was doing everything in his power to make sure she hated it here.
“You can’t leave the head table, Luc. The main donor was promised a meal with royalty, so you must remain.”
“Good thing we have a spare prince and princess to fill the void. I’m sure he’ll be happy to make due with two royals instead of three.”
“Guys, guys!” Hannah raised her voice as she tugged on my hand. “It’sokay, Luc. I can sit at a table all by myself. It’s not like it’s forever. It’s just for the meal, right? I’ll be okay, and I’ll find you after.”
I tossed her a disbelieving look. “It’s the opposite of all right. It’s wrong, and I’m embarrassed that my family is treating you this way,mon chou.”
“Luc, it’s one meal. I think I can handle one meal by myself.”
I searched her eyes for any hintof how she really felt, but there wasn’t a crack in her calm expression. She even smiled slightly to let me know I was being ridiculous.
But I didn’t feel ridiculous. I felt pissed off as I left her at table eighty-two, surrounded by other people who didn’t bother to look up from their conversations and cliques. My anger grew as I watched her from the other side of the room as she picked at hersalad, and shrugged helplessly as the woman on her left tried to talk to her. Judging by her wrinkled forehead, she had no idea what the emcee was saying, as he gave his speech in French. As the meal wore on, Hannah looked more miserable by the second.
I felt the same. I didn’t participate in the conversation around me. I ignored the glares from my brother and the sympathetic looks from my mum.Like Hannah, I was miserable and counting the seconds until I could hold her in my arms and try to make up for this disastrous evening.
