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Carlo hummed softly. “I see.”
Was that wrong? God, Camillo and his whole family were so hard to read. “Ah. So. I think I’m taking the brunt of his ire, andI figured Camillo should know I have no idea when I’ll be free to leave.”
“What time was your original agreement?”
“A little after six?” My knees were knocking together.
“Then expect the car at quarter ’til.”
My eyes widened. “Ah, sir?—”
“Are you going to tell me no?”
I wasn’t a fool. Of course I wasn’t. “Noooo. But?—”
“Do you think anyone on that set will tell me no?”
“Likely not.”
“Then I will see you. Have a good rest of your afternoon, Aleric.”
The line went dead, and then it hit me. See you soon? Was the fucking crown prince coming to fetch me? If we weren’t screwed before, we definitely were now.
Quarter ’til six, and everything was suddenly shut down. Several suited men walked in, looking terrifying and dangerous. There was a hush across the set. Then the back doors opened, and Prince Carlo walked in. He was tall—not sure if he was taller than Camillo, but I wouldn’t doubt it.
He was also imposing. Camillo was terrifying with his ability to remove any expression from his face at all. Carlo had more of ado it, I dare youkind of look. A man who had been raised to know that one day he would be king of an entire country. A man who understood power over people on its most fundamental level.
And then his gaze found me, and he smiled. His entire face transformed. He was clearly much older than Camillo and hada vibe a lot like Cillian—a sort of caregiver, father type that triggered the resentment I had toward my own.
But I couldn’t be angry at him.
I realized I was dressed up like his brother and sitting in a chair that was almost an exact replica of the one Camillo used, and I jumped to my feet. It felt odd to be sitting there. I faced him, then did a sort of half-flailing bow.
“Your…Royal Highness?” Fuck, why was I so bad at that?
He closed the distance between us and touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Camillo will teach you everything you need to know before you meet anyone important.”
Likehewasn’t important? I nearly choked on my own tongue as I straightened.
“Your Royal Highness,” Christoph said. His eyes were alight. “I never expected you to grace us with your presence.”
Carlo gave him a slow up and down, then sniffed. “I’m here for my brother.”
“That’s…not your brother, sir,” Christoph said slowly.
Carlo’s brows rose. “Isn’t it?”
Christoph very clearly didn’t know what to say, and it took everything I had, and a little of what I didn’t have, not to burst into laughter.
“Let me clarify. I’m here onbehalfof my brother. Aleric has an invite to the palace tonight,” Carlo said after letting Christoph stew in his own awkward juices. “I understand that you’re in the middle of shooting or whatever it is you call it”—he waved a dismissive hand—“but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me stealing him.”
Christoph’s eyes glittered. “As much as I would love to say yes, unfortunately, we need him until late tonight. It’s a matter of budget, you see, and?—”
“Send me the bill.”
Christoph stared.
Ignoring him, Carlo extended me his elbow, which was only a little humiliating. I didn’t buy into that hyper-masculine crap, but he was making a spectacle out of me.