The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 31 - Part 2

Isabelle remained staring at the tragic painting of Alistair and Mysthena until the rest of the debutantes began to file back towards the carriages. She waited until most of them had left, joining a group of straggling ladies-in-waiting whose names she had never bothered to learn. They whispered amongst themselves the entire way back, shooting questioning looks Isabelle's way. Isabelle ignored them, choosing instead to watch the glittering town homes of the capitol's nobles float by in the moonlight.

Cutting through the giggling and gossip filling the entrance hall, Isabelle hastened to her room, certain that if Cora managed to corner her alone, she'd be on the receiving end of a sound tongue-lashing. Normally, Isabelle would have welcomed the chance to square off against the willowy blonde for throwing Violet into the arms of the waiting wolf, Byron, but that familiar weariness had settled over Isabelle once again.

She squeezed her eyes closed to fight the swirling thoughts in her head, tugging open her suite door. She leaned her head back against the solid wood as she closed it behind her, relishing the relative silence of her suite. It wouldn't last long, especially since she'd passed Alicia and the twins in the entrance hall, the three of them gossiping with Henrietta Barclay's ladies-in-waiting. A fire crackled in the hearth, the soothing sound a balm for her worn nerves. She inhaled the familiar scent of the room before pushing away from the door.

"The museum couldn't have been that terrible."

Isabelle let out a little yelp, her eyes flying open to land on the crown prince. Seated on her love seat, still dressed in his formalwear with his hands folded behind his head, he watched her with a cheeky glimmer in his green eyes.

"Is there nothing else for you to do in this infernal palace besides pester me?" Isabelle asked by way of greeting, as Lissa came over to collect her fur stole and satin gloves. Her maid whispered an apology as the prince rose, a grin tugging at his cheeks.

"Hardly. Though I fear my head may have turned to mush after tonight's dinner conversation," he said, appreciatively looking over her deep blue satin finery. "The future Ardalonian queen is quite beautiful, but quite stupid."

"Thank the heavens you aren't a diplomat, or we'd be at war," Isabelle said, awkwardly hesitating in the middle of the room as Lissa quickly stowed her things. The silence that stretched between them was interrupted when the suite door banged open, Alicia's cackling laugh preceding the trio of ladies-in-waiting as they swooped into the room.

"Did you really make Violet Harwood cry?" Alicia demanded archly, before halting in her tracks. One of the twins slammed into her, the pair of them staggering forward as the other twin seized her sister's arm in surprise. The three of them managed to sink curtseys, the smug look on Alicia's face replaced by cold calculation as her eyes hopped from Isabelle to Graham and back again.

"I daresay that whether Isabelle made anyone cry is none of your business," Graham said, fixing the nosy lady-in-waiting with a dangerous, kingly glare. "Which reminds me, Alicia, my mother is having you reassigned in the morning. I suggest you start packing your things. Laura and Marjorie can help you."

"We're being reassigned?" one of the twins asked, still gripping her sister's arm. Graham's glare softened ever so slightly.

"Not you, Laura, nor your sister," he said kindly. "You two are far too valuable. Alicia, however, is not. Now run along, you three."

Lissa took her cue from the prince, fluttering over to usher the three ladies-in-waiting to their room. Alicia's breath was coming in ragged gasps, her neck flushing puce as Lissa herded her away.

"Is she really being reassigned?" Isabelle asked, watching as Lissa jammed a handkerchief into the keyhole to hinder any spying eyes before returning to the seat she'd been occupying near the dining table