Page 75 of A Royal Mistake

Pippa shrank under the force of her mother’s stare. “In retrospect, it’s possible I didn’t fully consider the repercussions of the game. But in my defense, you weren’t supposed to be in residence today.”

Her mother sighed, the quietwhooshof air speaking volumes.

I’m so disappointed in you, Pippa.

Why can’t you behave like a proper princess, Pippa?

Why couldn’t I get a daughter more like me?

This was exactly why she hadn’t told her parents—or anyone but Sarah—about the game. They would have shut her down simply because it wasn’t dignified. After all, what kind of princess played paintball?

The fun kind. The kind who wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself or her beliefs. The kind who knew what you do matters more than the family you’re born into.

Pippa squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She couldn’t afford to break now. If her parents sensed even a hairline fracture in her defense, they’d exploit it. It was a wonder they hadn’t suggested offering her hand to Prince Gabriel as compensation for getting tased.

Don’t give them any ideas, Bunny.

“I realize the paintball game was unconventional, but if I’m going to be married, I want a man who shares my values and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

The king snorted. “There are far more civilized ways to get your hands dirty.”

Yes, because courtly backstabbing is far more dignified.

“Well, it was paintball or a good old-fashioned joust.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Honestly, I thought paintball would be better for insurance liability. How was I to know that twit Gabriel would be so trigger happy? I certainly never imagined him shooting my father.”

A crimson flush spread across the king’s cheeks and his nose turned red as a cherry, a sure sign he was reaching the end of his patience.

Pippa was finding it hard to care. She was tired of this game, tired of being treated like a pawn instead of a person. The incident in the garden was unfortunate, but perhaps if they hadn’t forced her hand, this nonsense could’ve been avoided.

“Honestly, Father. I can’t imagine marrying a man like that. What kind of king will he be if he’s ruled by emotion?” She gave a weak smile and dropped her chin, feigning contrition as she planted the seeds of doubt. With any luck, they’d take root, and when she announced her decision to remain single at summer’s end, Their Majesties wouldn’t fight her. “I’ll cut him today, if that’s what you desire.”

Like hell her parents would let her cut Gabriel. Hair-trigger or not, he was their favorite. The most favorable match she could make.

She nearly gagged.

The prospect of dating Gabriel—of marrying him—was utterly repulsive. He was arrogant, self-centered, and… he wasn’t Henry. Didn’t have Henry’s heart or his faith in her. Didn’t see her as a woman with something to offer other than her crown.

And he certainly didn’t have Henry’s ability to spark wildfire in her belly.

“Let’s not be hasty,” the queen counseled, gripping Pippa’s upper arm a hair too tight. “The boy got carried away during a game, and from the sound of it, he got the worse end of the deal.” She shuddered. “We certainly can’t turn him out now. How would it look? Besides, he’s a good man. We should give him an opportunity to make amends.”

Pippa’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head.

So predictable, Mother.

“I agree.” The king leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he folded his hands together. “Prince Gabriel is a good man. We shouldn’t be so hasty in dismissing him.”

She had known this would be their decision, but she hadn’t anticipated the bitterness she’d feel at hearing her father voice it aloud. Anger, red-hot and molten, coursed through her veins. She was their daughter. Didn’t she deserve more? More than political alliances and obnoxious royal suitors who didn’t give a damn about her.

Yes.

And the only way she was going to get it was to reach out with both hands and take it.

She sucked in a calming breath and tamped down her anger. If she blew up now, it would just reinforce their belief that she wasn’t mature enough or serious enough to start her own foundation.

“A wise decision,” the queen agreed, a smug grin curving her lips. “We’ll take a few days for everyone to calm down, and then we can hold another event.” She studied her perfect peach manicure, a sure sign she was scheming. “Perhaps we could host a polo match for charity. It would be great exposure for Pippa and the suitors.” She stole a glance at the king’s ruined suit. “God knows we’ll need positive press after word of today’sincidentleaks to the press.”

Pippa gritted her teeth. It wasn’t her fault the palace leaked like a sieve. Fortunately, two could play at this game.