Page 13 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

Chapter thirteen

A tlas.

Everyone froze, making my heavy breaths all the more audible as the guard held tension on my hair. The loose curls Mara had left down had settled in front of my eyes, but there was no mistaking Atlas’s silver gaze.

“Your Highness.” The guard preparing to behead me lowered his sword but didn’t put it away. “Please forgive us for disturbing you. We were merely dealing with this Ivalonian who stepped out of line.”

The prince took in the scene like a painting in an art gallery that wasn’t worth the price of admission.

He looked far more casual than he had at our meals.

His dark hair was swept to the side and his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing muscles that validated his threat to grab a sword.

His eyes passed over me briefly, then jumped back as he took in my glitzy attire and pulled hair.

He traced his gaze over me, his focus landing on my injured neck as he scoffed under his breath.

“Dealing with her by killing her right outside our door?” Atlas’s husky voice smothered all other noises, making me forget about my own heartbeat as he glared daggers at the guard restraining me. “What part of this seemed like a good idea to you?”

“Your Highness, we were merely carrying out orders,” the guard holding me replied tautly, wrenching his fingers tighter into my hair so it felt like my scalp was peeling off. “King Septimus instructed us to kill any Ivalonians who disobeyed commands.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the second guard agreed. “The girl had not been granted permission to leave her room, nor did she have an escort.”

I squirmed in the guard’s grip, trying to relieve some of the pain from my scalp while also avoiding the white-hot glare from Atlas. I snuck a glimpse at him through my lashes, not feeling guilty but also not really having anything firm with which to defend my actions.

He could have easily let them kill me, yet...

“She has my permission,” Atlas said, causing my breath to catch in the back of my sore throat. “Release her, now.”

“What?” The guard holding me did no such thing, instead digging his beefy fingers into my arm. “But Your Highness, the girl left of her own accord. She must be punished. King Septimus said—”

“And I said let her go.” Atlas placed the weight of his crown on each word, digging his command deep into the guard’s thick skull. “I requested she come to me. It’s not my fault that a servant didn’t do their job and act as her escort.”

He’s lying for me.

I locked my gaze onto him with an astonished gape on my painted lips, but he turned his nose up at me to continue his verbal battle with the guard.

“I see,” the guard gripping me grumbled as he slowly released my hair, allowing it to tumble in a sloppy mess around my face. He released my arm, giving it one final crushing squeeze before pulling away. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

I straightened my dress and attempted to tuck my messy hair back behind my ear. My fingers brushed by something sticky and warm on my scalp. I quickly tucked a clump of hair over the blood, then wiped my fingers on the carpet.

“I won’t forget this insolence,” I hissed at the guards, bleeding more hatred out of them with every word.

“Trust me, my lady ,” the guard who had been inches away from claiming my life growled. “Neither will we. ”

A chill raced down my spine, but I let it run its course. Threats held little weight in my mind when I was walking a tightrope to survival.

“Inside, now,” Atlas commanded me. “You’re already late enough.”

I followed along with his ruse and rushed inside the lounge, where two familiar faces were waiting.

Atlas slammed the door behind me, then leaned against it with his foot propped up on its base.

He folded his arms, looking between his brothers for their reaction toward the stray he’d just pulled out of the alley.

The room was spacious, but significantly smaller than my suite.

Dark brown flooring made the room feel both cozy and cave-like, and the navy wallpaper probably made the space feel tighter than it was.

Leather armchairs were arranged in the center of the room, with a long bookcase spanning the wall to the far left.

The right side of the room was filled with the type of entertainment I had expected to find, including chess boards, drawing easels, and even a small work desk with wood shavings dusted on top.

Lochlan was seated where he appeared to be playing himself in a game of chess that was only three moves away from checkmate, while Cedric was standing in front of an arm chair that had a discarded book with a corner folded to mark his place.

The princes stared at me from all angles, each one daring the next person in the room to speak first.

“It’s good to see you all, too,” I said in a gravelly voice, my throat still raw from having my windpipe nearly crushed. I reached for the pins in my hair and plucked out two, letting my golden curls fall to my shoulders to mask my blood and bruises. “I hope you enjoyed my grand entrance.”

“What the devil was that?” Atlas snapped with that low rasp scraping his tone. He watched my hair tumble, but his focus was still riveted to my bruised throat. “Are you trying to die?”

“You should have let her,” Lochlan huffed under his breath. “If that’s what the lady wanted, then why not be a gentleman and let the guard finish her off?”

“Could you stop being a pest for five minutes?” Cedric asked Lochlan.

“Why? You can’t stop being one for five seconds.” Lochlan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his chess board.

“Sit down,” Atlas told me, motioning toward one of the leather chairs. “Now.”

I held off for a moment, debating how much I wanted to challenge the man who had just saved my life. My neck throbbed, reminding me that one brush with death was plenty for now. I’d been strong enough today; now I needed to be likable.

I took my seat, remaining as straight-backed and poised as if I had been invited from the start. Atlas moved to the chair across from me, not sitting, but leaning both of his hands on the back of it while Cedric moved up behind him.

“Do you want to tell us what you were thinking?” Atlas interrogated, his knuckles ashen as he dug his nails into the chair’s leather. He couldn’t look away from my neck, and every few seconds his gaze would flick to my hair where I was certain blood was spotting it.

I think I found the man with a soft spot.

This was good. A little blood and bruises were a small price to pay for information like this.

“I was invited by you.” I repeated Atlas’s lie with a mischievous smile. “I thought it was best to obey a prince’s command.”

“That trick won’t work twice,” Atlas said, his back straightening as he returned to his full height.

He adjusted his rolled-up sleeves, then crossed his arms as he looked down at me in a way that made my throat feel tight again.

He walked around the chair, moving closer to me at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“I did some digging into your little luncheon incident. Not a single servant carried a message from me, Cedric, or Lochlan that day.”

He stopped a few feet in front of my chair, his shadow hanging over me like a solar eclipse I was too fascinated by to look away from. It had taken him long enough to figure it out.

“Perhaps I received the message the day before?” I suggested with a coy shrug.

“Or perhaps you’re not the sad little tortured prisoner you pretend to be.” Atlas leaned forward and placed his hands on the arms of my chair, inching closer until I could see the indignation in his eyes.

“I’m plenty tortured,” I purred, not moving an inch while also encouraging him to come closer. It was getting difficult to stay focused on playing innocent when looking at him felt like a guilty pleasure. “Though I’m far less sad when given the attention I was promised.”

“You were promised nothing,” Atlas said.

“Yet you were promised me,” I countered. “But you’ve hardly even let me out of my room.”

Atlas pulled back, his eyes never diverting from mine as he recrossed his arms. It seemed to be his resting position, like a stone wall with every defense in the book .

“Where did a perfect princess-to-be learn to be so tricky?” Atlas asked. “I can’t imagine Prince Damon falling for a brat like you.”

That proved how little he knew about Damon. He was the one who’d taught me everything I knew.

I swallowed hard, my throat screaming at me in the process. This was not the time to think about Damon, not when I had three new targets to focus on.

“I wasn’t chosen to be a royal simply for my pretty face,” I said.

“It won’t stay pretty for much longer if you don’t stay out of our sight.

” Lochlan started removing his pieces from the chess board, his game won with a sacrificed queen.

“Not all of us are as nice as Atlas. If you wanted to risk a visit with us, you should have at least received a few scars across that face as payment.”

Mara’s scarred face flashed through my mind, churning up my desire to drag a dagger across his chiseled jaw.

“Ignore him. I always do,” Cedric said as he slid into another chair. “I don’t think it was wise for you to come here, either. But since you were willing to risk your life, I assume you had something important you wanted to say?”

“She shouldn’t be allowed to say anything at all,” Lochlan snapped. “She’s a prisoner who broke out of her room and should be punished. ”

“She’s allowed to speak,” Cedric growled back.

“She’s allowed nothing,” Lochlan said. “Don’t let her convince you otherwise.”

“We’re not letting her convince us of anything,” Atlas added.

“Is that so?” Lochlan rose from his seat. “Then what just happened out in the hall? You’re going to tell me that she didn’t bat those pretty eyes and convince you to save her?”

“No, I—”

“While you debate whether I’m allowed to speak, I’ll simply talk over you.

” I stood, my voice clear and pointed as I ripped the control out of the princes’ flimsy grasps.

Damon would have had a field day with these boys.

“I can be a prisoner and a future bride all at once, but to do that I cannot be confined to a single room. I came here today to advocate for my chance to prove my worth as a princess. I will not simply sit by and wait for an opportunity that is never coming.”

The room stilled as each man processed my words in a different manner. Cedric looked troubled and Atlas appeared reserved, but it was Lochlan who approached me. He crossed in front of Atlas, knocking his shoulder into his twin as he stepped directly in front of me.

He may have resembled his brother, but his dark eyes made him the spitting image of his father. I felt my skin crawl before he even spoke. His tongue traced over his pearly teeth like he was debating whether he should take a bite of me, and his fingers fidgeted impatiently at his sides.

“Tell me then, princess .” He drew out the title, dragging it through the dirt and scraping it through briars. “Why do you want to marry one of us so soon? Why leave the safety of your cage to play with the beasts?”

I did my best to measure my shoulders up to his, but like Atlas, he was too tall for me to overshadow.

“I wish to secure my survival,” I said with an icy breath. “Is that too difficult to believe?”

“Not at all.” Lochlan tapped his chin, looking me up and down.

“But it’s hard to believe that’s everything.

You put yourself at too much risk for a girl who doesn’t want to die, and your lack of flirting skills leads me to believe that you’re not trying to charm us out of fondness.

No...the fight behind those sparkly blue eyes makes me think you’d rather crush us than court us. ”

My weight shifted between my feet as his words left me unsteady.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Lochlan was good at chess when he knew exactly when to target a would-be queen.

He saw right through me, which was why he despised me.

That was fine, though. I didn’t need him in the end, but he could still help me showcase my worth to his brothers .

“You think I want to fight you?” I asked.

“I think you have fight in you,” he clarified. “But you’re still too weak to be worth my time.”

We’ll see about that.

“Then fight me.”

Lochlan tilted his head, a mysterious smile twitching at his lips as he considered it. “That’s a cute idea.”

“Diaspro, I wouldn’t suggest making those kinds of jokes around Lochlan,” Cedric said as he turned to Lochlan. “Don’t get any ideas. You know she didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, I did.” I folded my arms, mirroring the dominating stance that the brothers loved to take with me. “If sparring you is what it takes to show that I’m worth being in your presence, then I’ll gladly pick up a sword.”

Lochlan’s smile widened like a ravenous crocodile staring down its meal. “You want to fight me, princess?”

“Restrain yourself, would you?” Atlas pulled on Lochlan’s shoulder, but Lochlan didn’t budge. “No one is fighting anyone. Diaspro is going back to her room, and we—”

“I said, I’ll fight,” I clipped. “Let’s make a deal. If I win, you all have to start putting in the effort to spend time with me.”

Atlas tried to catch my eyes, but I wasn’t going to give him the chance to warn me. I knew the risks, and the rewards were far greater.

“I’ll make that deal,” Lochlan said with a wicked grin. “But if you can’t hold your own, I’ll finish where those guards left off.” He swiped his thumb across his throat.

“Very well,” I said. “Either way, I’m not going back to rotting in a cage.”

“You heard the lady,” Lochlan said with a wicked laugh. “It would be rude of me to refuse her request. Ready my sword.”