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“Now.” I channel my own mother, the look I give him brooking no argument. And then I turn to the man beside him. “Matt, please go help Rory with the plates.”

He gapes at me. “Why?”

“Because you’re bored and I asked nicely.” I lift my chin. “But mostlybecause I said so.”

There’s a long moment where he looks around, assessing the others, and I get this notion that we’re on the edge of a knife.Are we obeying her?his expression asks.

Ultimately, he huffs, “Fine,” and the tension falls out of me like a sack of bricks. For the first time this afternoon, I turn to the man in front of me and don’t feel intimidated one bit. “Tommy, eat your lunch.”

He pulls a face. “I don’t like chicken.”

“Then why didn’t you get the salmon?” When all he does is shrug, I roll my eyes, reaching out to slide his plate to my place setting. “I’ll take this. Go get another plate.”

Still, he argues, “I’m not hungry.”

This man’s sulking could put Whitaker Ashby to shame.

“Two bites. That’s all I’m asking.” I say, the threat clear in my voice. “If you still don’t like it, then fine.”

To my amazement, he heeds it, even if it’s done with a sharp, annoyed groan. The next time I look over at his plate, the salmonandchicken, are clean.

All bark, no bite.

Who knew?

Things go a lot smoother after that. I go around the room, digging my fist into the aching small of my back as I make sure everyone’s getting enough to eat. It’s so much easier than trying to be King Ashby or Lavinia Lucia, imagining what my mother would say to Baxter, who’s got a hacking cough.

Stopping at his table, I don’t bother asking as I put the back of my hand to his forehead, cringing. “You’re burning up, Dory! Why aren’t you at home, resting up?”

His bleary eyes blink up at me, a frown etched in his brow. “The invitation said it was mandatory.” The words are said in a ragged voice, and the more I look at him, the more I see how frayed he is, nose glowing red.

“Come on,” I sigh, motioning at Lex. “Let’s put some meds into you and get you home.”

His mouth goes slack. “Really?” When all I do is shoo him from his seat, he slumps away with a hoarse, “Thanks, Princess.”

It’d be a lie to say they warm up to me. Wicker was right about that much; it’d take years to get into each guy’s good graces. But he was wrong about Tommy being the only way. Maybe I don’t need to beliked.

Maybe I just need to be respected.

As I’m in the powder room scrubbing Baxter’s germs from my hands, rolling this concept around in my head, I’m startled by the sudden pounding of feet passing through the hallway to the foyer.

When I duck my head out, almost getting pelted by the blur of Rory whizzing by, I see Pace and Ballsack rushing out the front door. “What’s going on?” I ask, barely catching Rory before he’s followed them out.

“That FBI agent is at the gate,” he says, face pale, winded. “And he’s got half of the fucking police force with him.”

My stomach sinks, a million thoughts rushing through my mind.We should have killed Ashby, comes a little voice that sounds a lot like Wicker. If they search the palace, we’re all screwed.

Stomach churning, I follow Rory outside, realizing that most of the frat—my Princes included—are already at the gate, arguing with Agent Knight.

“—no jurisdiction here,” Pace is fuming, Lex looking annoyed beside him.

“Oh, we just heard there was a party going on,” the Agent says, glancing at my approach. He’s smacking on a piece of gum, carelessly tossing his jacket over the hood of the cruiser parked up against the gate. “Don’t worry, though. We brought a present and everything—something you’ve been wanting for a long time.” He lifts his clipboard, offering Pace a chilly grin. “A warrant.”

I can practically feel the blood draining from my face, and when I reach out, tangling a searching hand in Pace’s shirt, I can sense the tension vibrating off him in waves.

But he’s perfectly calm as he reaches through the bars to take the paper, his dark eyes glancing over the words. “Not for the palace,” he says.

Lex exhales, leaning over to give the warrant a closer look. “Wait. This is for…”