Page 30 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

Chapter twenty-eight

W hen I walked into the dining room, it became very apparent that no one knew I was coming. Atlas and Cedric looked up at me with a bit more pleasant surprise, but Lochlan scowled at me like I was a mangy dog they had sent to lick his plate clean.

“Lady Diaspro,” the steward announced me, clearing his throat until I curtsied for the princes.

“There goes my appetite.” Lochlan put his fork down, rolling his eyes as I rose from my curtsey. “What is it even doing here?”

“ She ,” Cedric corrected. “And I’m not sure. I wasn’t aware we’d have company today.”

“I can’t say that I was made aware either,” I said as I moved toward an empty seat. I claimed the chair between Cedric and Atlas, which was fortunately opposite Lochlan’s spot at the large round table. “Nonetheless, I don’t have the luxury of refusing an invitation.”

“You do if no one invited you,” Lochlan said .

“Lochlan, could you stop being prickly for two whole seconds?” Cedric asked.

“Now, now, Prince Cedric, be reasonable,” I said as I sank into the seat. “Lochlan can’t count to two.”

Atlas snorted at that remark, and even Cedric had to bite back a chuckle.

“How about I count to three, princess?” Lochlan grabbed the closest knife on the table. “You have until then to run. One, two—”

“Enough.” A scratchy voice that sounded ten years older than anyone else cut through the air.

I looked back to the door to find the old man who’d spoken and recognized him as the crabby elder Lord Fenrick who had been at the meeting I’d sat in on with Lochlan.

His skin was tanned and leathery, his frown set so low it almost melted down his face.

The princes all went quiet when they saw him, and Lochlan even dropped the knife and settled back into his seat. “The girl is here by my request.”

“Yours?” Lochlan furrowed his brow. “I hadn’t expected you to be cheering for her success.”

I had to agree with Lochlan. During the meeting, Lord Fenrick had been more than eager to get me out of the way.

“I’m not,” he said coldly, his beady eyes flicking briefly to me. “I want nothing more than to see her out of our kingdom’s colors, which is why King Septimus has agreed to this test.”

Test?

“Please explain yourself, Lord Fenrick,” Atlas said, his posture straightening the same way it did when he was prepared for battle.

“With pleasure,” he said with a serpentine smile that made my skin crawl.

“The king and I both grow impatient for results from the lady. Therefore, he has agreed to allow me to expedite the process. During the meal, Lady Diaspro will have one final chance to charm her potential suitors. At the end of the meal, any one of Your Highnesses may speak on her behalf to allow her to remain in the castle. If none of you choose to...well, we’ll stop wasting everyone’s time. ”

My heart shriveled up like it had been tossed in a fire and gobbled by the flames. Time had been the only promise I had left, and this wrinkled excuse for a lord had just ripped that promise away. Every plan I’d laid out had been crafted for nothing.

“That’s hardly fair, Lord Fenrick,” Cedric said, voicing the scream that was trapped at the top of my lungs. “Lady Diaspro was told she had until the end of the season to marry. It’s only been a month, plus we’ve been far too busy with our duties to get to know her properly. ”

The lord’s thin lips curled briefly, like the twitch of a spider’s leg. “Then clearly she hasn’t been worthy of your time.”

My nails found the edge of the tablecloth and pierced through the thick fabric one thread at a time. It took every ounce of my self-control not to grab the nearest platter and throw it at the lord’s head, so I strangled the tablecloth in place of his scrawny neck.

“Makes no difference to me.” Lochlan leaned back in his seat, relaxing his stiff posture now that he wasn’t the target of the lord’s displeasure. “So long as we make it quick.”

“ Lochlan ,” Cedric hissed. “You may not get along with Lady Diaspro, but that doesn’t mean she deserves this treatment.”

“Then what treatment does an enemy crown princess deserve?” Lord Fenrick interjected sharply, his eyes gleaming as he picked apart my spirit.

“She’s not a princess,” Atlas said with a low grumble, his jaw set and stiff.

“She had everything but the crown,” Lochlan argued, happy to be loud enough for the entire room. “I for one will not argue with the king and our elders. Thank you, Lord Fenrick, we’ll do as you say and enjoy our meal. ”

That was all it took. One smile exchanged between the lord and the heartless prince and my time had been cut to the length of a meal.

This is my last chance.

I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood, venting the rest of my frustration as I watched the lord disappear through the doors. I dabbed a linen against my lips, absorbing the crimson drops that would be only the first to spill.

The servants placed bowls of fresh fruit in front of us, but mine may as well have been rotten and covered in maggots. I looked up at the princes, catching the gazes of both Atlas and Cedric for a brief moment.

The sea of questions between us was too vast to cross with the flimsy paddle we’d been handed, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“Prince Atlas, Prince Cedric.” I perfectly enunciated each name.

“Prince Lochlan.” Even his name. “You know of my hope to live and my aspirations to serve this kingdom with the skills I possess. The outcome of my fate has always been in your hands, but until now I held the misguided belief that at least some of that control was in my grasp. All that to say, I am not going to beg for your acceptance, but I will plead for my future. What more can I do to preserve my time? ”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Not even the servants who lined the walls dared to take a breath as the princes looked between their untouched plates and each other.

Lochlan broke the silence by picking up a fork and diving into his bowl of fruit, the clink of his silverware prodding at me.

The smallest of sobs echoed from the corner of the room. It was barely even a breath, but among the silence, it was impossible to miss the tiny cry from the Ivalonian servant who stood in the shadows. My spirit sank at the sound.

Please…

“Prince Cedric?” I singled out the youngest prince. “Has our time together meant anything to you?”

I looked at Cedric, whittling down his conscience in any way I could from my seat.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, so he simply closed it again without a word.

He wouldn’t save me. Even after all the time he’d spent with me, his position was still too weak for him to take on a controversial bride.

His kindness had been merely a bluff; in truth, he was ruthless enough to make the best decision for his own life.

Which was to ruin mine.

I looked at Atlas next, but his head was turned.

“Prince Atlas?” I didn’t even know what to say to him.

He’d warned me not to marry. My begging would mean nothing to him, yet it didn’t stop me from trying.

“Am I truly not enough?” He couldn’t meet my eyes even for a moment, and that was even more infuriating than the words that finally broke the quiet.

“I’ll answer for them,” Lochlan said between bites of juicy honeydew. “There’s nothing you can do, and you can’t give us what we want. You may have been a prince’s bride in your last life, but here, you’re no different from any other woman.”

His words struck me harder than I’d anticipated. I curled my toes, biting the inside of my cheek as I wondered just how true his statement had been.

Was he right? Without Damon, was I the same as every other woman?

“If you’re going to speak for us, at least say something true.

” Atlas broke his silence, his low rasp catching me off guard.

“She’s plenty different, but that’s the problem.

Different is unpredictable.” He finally looked at me, and when he did, something inside me sparked.

His grey eyes lured me in, hooking me tightly to a life I was desperate to live but had no promise of ever attaining.

“You would prefer someone predictable?” I asked, my voice shallower than I meant it to be .

“I would prefer someone explainable,” he said.

My heart raced as I flicked my eyes to the nearest clock in the room.

It had only been five minutes since the lord left.

How long would he give us to speak? I couldn’t hear it ticking, but the tempo of the moving hands was already seared into my brain. “You don’t add up, Diaspro.”

“Yes, I believe that’s my problem, as well,” Cedric added, catching my breath as he shifted his chair to face me more directly.

I was pinned between the two of them, their questioning gazes hitting me from both sides while Lochlan silently mocked me from the end of the table.

“Your skills are impressive, but also concerning.”

“Concerning how?” I folded my arms, trying to hide the rapid rise and fall of my chest. “What have I done to pose any risk to you?”

“Spoken,” Lochlan said with a snort.

“Stay out of this, Lochlan.” Cedric glared. “Unless you intend to say something useful.”

“I’m not jesting,” Lochlan said, his voice rising. “She can’t be trusted to hold her tongue.”

“I never spoke in your meeting,” I reminded him.

“No, what you did was far worse.” Lochlan reached for his goblet, swirling the liquid inside before taking a slow sip. “Face it, princess. You’re a liability.”

“Still not a princess. ”

“And you never will be.” Lochlan slammed his cup down, sloshing out a blood-red drop of wine that dribbled onto the white doily. “One lucky sparring match with me is far from enough to prove your worth, my lady .”