For the Rebellion

Chapter 17 - The Intention to Gut Him

I was a ball of nerves as I strode into the dining hall of my father's castle. The room was nearly full. He'd wanted to keep me out of the public eye when the prince had first arrived. He'd used my sickness to his advantage. He'd worried that the prince would steal my virtue, especially so close to my wedding day.

A valid concern, now that I thought of it. We'd shared three kisses. I didn't entirely count the first. The other two had been entirely voluntary on my part. That last, though...my cheeks flushed hot. Kissing Theo without my mask, the feel of his palms against my face, the gentle way his thumbs stroked my cheekbones, like his fingers were making up for lost time.

Gods.

The head table came into view and my steps faltered. My lady's maids slowed their pace to keep from stepping on the train of my gown. A gown my father had insisted I wear to dinner. Now I knew exactly why.

Sitting two chairs over from my father was none other than Hawthorne Vantis, one of the wealthiest merchants in Dragonwall. My stomach soured immediately at the sight of him. He lived on the south side of Eagle Lake, in Mistport.

If he was here, that meant he'd taken one of his boats to cross the lake. It was a little over a day's journey. And that meant he'd be here for a few days.

I looked him over, sitting there with his willowy frame. I'd once thought him handsome. How could I have been so delusional?! With him seated so close to Theo, there was just no comparison. He looked positively plain!

My heart began to pound. Oh, gods! How was I supposed to survive this dinner seated beside my intended, with the prince just on Hawthorne's other side? I sucked in a sharp breath and continued forward, as if nothing were wrong.

Hawthorne's gaze landed on me and a large smile took over his face. It took everything in me to smile back and avoid the prince's gaze. Almost impossible, especially when I caught a glance at the way he stared at me.

His handsome face was in raptures. His lips were parted, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. His stare made me feel seen, cherished, precious. I knew it had nothing to do with how I was dressed, though surely that didn't work against me.

My gown was a deep velvet blue, with a low, square neckline trimmed with pearls. My brown hair was brushed to shining, and loose around my shoulders. I'd even covered my cheeks with rouge and my eyes with coal. If I'd known my intended would be here, I probably wouldn't have tried so hard.

"Daughter!" Lord Lasker proclaimed. The prince was the first to jump to his feet. Then my father—looking mildly annoyed by the show of respect—also stood. My brothers on his right followed suit before the rest of the head table came to its feet, followed by the patrons in the dining hall. My skin prickled. I never liked attention, not like this. "Come, sit!"

I rounded the table as Hawthorne rushed to pull out my chair. I didn't miss the way Theo's fist clenched, like he'd planned to do the honor himself only to find himself thwarted. I stepped up to the chair and allowed him to push it in, helping me get situated. My lady's maids took seats near the front of the dining hall, to be on hand in case I needed them.

"You look well, Sophie," Hawthorne declared. "Even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

There came a quiet snort—from the prince at Hawthorne's left. I ignored the noise and said, "Thank you, Hawthorne. How are you?"

"Better, now that I have my sights on you."

I took a deep, steadying breath, searching for patience. "That is wonderful to hear."

"Indeed."

Servants rushed forward carrying platters of food, depositing them at our table first, before making their way to the other tables. I immediately began dishing up food, if only to have something to do. Maybe if I ate quickly, I could excuse myself.