Page 9 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

Chapter nine

I didn’t care what the soup tasted like this time. Each slow slip soothed the ache in my stomach, begging me to guzzle the steaming bowl of broth and endure the burns. I forced myself to eat slowly, acutely aware of the eyes on me.

They knew I’d been starving and they wanted to see how I’d react to a table full of food. It was a test—a painful, agonizing test that I wouldn’t fail.

The princes snuck me glances while I ate, but it was really the Aemastian servants that I was aware of.

They were the ones watching my every move, taking note of the spoon I used and counting the bites I took from each plate.

I left at least a half portion of every food behind, just as Mara had taught me.

It was painful to waste even a single crumb after the horrors I’d been through, but I had already pushed enough boundaries for the day.

Each of Mara’s rules were finally coming in handy, and my training in the Ivalonian palace was helping me stay alert to every soul around me.

For the most part, we ate in silence. Lochlan spoke first by asking Cedric for his signature on a foreign affairs document, and then Atlas brought up a conversation about the military supply lists that were overdue.

It all seemed like surface-level conversation, but it wasn’t difficult to read between the lines when there was only one land close by that was harboring their military.

Cedric swept glances at me each time the military or guard was mentioned, while the other two didn’t even bother to acknowledge me at all.

He picked at his food, not eating much faster than me but seemingly very interested in how much I left on my plate.

It was as if he felt guilty seeing me be timid to touch my own meal.

It looks like I’ve found the weakest link.

I blinked my lashes at him, testing his reaction as he straightened then turned his attention back to his plate.

Cedric wasn’t my first choice for a husband, but then again, neither were his brothers.

The benefit of marrying one of the twins was the potential of becoming Aemastia’s crown princess.

From what I could tell, there was still debate over which brother was the true heir, so it might have been better to target Cedric for the sake of safety .

I suppose he'll do.

Even appealing to Cedric’s sensitive side wouldn’t make things easy. None of the princes were spending time with me by choice, but that also said a lot about their fear of the king. If marrying me pleased the king, wouldn’t that make me all the more desirable to the third son?

Or would it add value to a competing son?

I shifted my attention to Atlas, who was babbling on about weapons and different metal densities for swords.

He was the joker of the deck. I couldn’t be certain about his motives, nor could I tell if he had any capacity for emotions at all.

His jacket hung loose over my shoulders, proving just how broad his sculpted frame was.

The gesture had puzzled me, and I hated how much I loved a challenge.

Pursuing Atlas could mean pursuing the crown, while pursuing Cedric meant prioritizing my survival.

As for Lochlan, he could burn with his father.

I’d dealt with enough prideful men in my life to know when I’d met my limit.

There was a difference between a challenge and a fool’s errand.

I weighed my options as I nibbled the corner of my bread.

My mind felt more responsive now that I’d had some proper food, and I was already itching to push my limits again.

If I was going to choose my plan of attack, I needed to test the waters and see where the current was leading me .

“Pardon me,” I interrupted the twins, earning a less-than-subtle eye roll from Lochlan. “I don’t mean to disrupt your conversation, but I wish to ask what your plans are for me now that we’ve recovered from our initial greeting.”

“Recovered?” Lochlan reached for his glass, swirling the contents before pausing it below his lips. “Darling, I’ve hardly even had a chance to wound you yet.”

“Then when might I expect our next encounter?” I asked, watching his jaw lock after he gulped down his wine. “I’m more than happy to meet you on the battlefield, so long as you name a time and place.”

“No one is battling anyone.” Atlas finally gifted me with his attention. “You’ll go back to your chambers and remain there until summoned.”

That wasn’t good enough.

“Who will be summoning me first?” I asked, making direct eye contact with Cedric, who immediately looked away. “If we are being forced to spend time together, then wouldn’t it be beneficial for me to plan ahead for who I’m accompanying?”

“The plans are none of your concern,” Cedric said with a clear of his throat. I’d been afraid of something like this. It was very likely that they had zero intentions of calling on me at all. “All you must do is wait until told otherwise. ”

I scrunched up the scratchy prison frock in my fists. That’s how it was going to be, then. Unless the king commanded it, they intended to continue ignoring me. There was no point in strategizing if I could never make it onto the battlefield.

“I’ll be kept caged up like a wild animal?” I asked bluntly.

“I could always put you down like one instead,” Lochlan offered with a hopeful smirk.

“Lochlan,” Atlas hissed, then turned to me. “Enough of this topic. As Cedric said, it’s none of your concern.”

“But it is concerning,” I said, forcing all the power into my tone that I dared.

I could sense the servants leaning in, watching my moves like crossbow snipers preparing to pin a fly’s wings.

Mara was right, every word was being monitored.

I couldn’t be careless. “If I’m to be no better than a dog, then the least you could do is throw me a bone and share when you intend to let me off my leash.

The king has commanded me to spend the season with you three, and I am not planning on—”

“You’re not the only one on a leash, darling.” Lochlan’s tone shifted into a shadowy mumble that rivaled a growling beast. “Now stop whining and appreciate that all you have to do is sit and look pretty. ”

I released my fists, my heart hammering as my thoughts tumbled into each other. The brothers went silent, and not even Atlas scolded Lochlan for his abrasiveness. What was even more interesting was the way that Cedric glanced around at the servants I’d presumed had only been watching me...

It would seem that there’s more than one cage in this castle.

“Lochlan’s right.” Atlas finally broke the silence. “We have too much to do to promise our time to you. There’s much to be done now that our kingdom has acquired new assets.”

“You’ve acquired me, too,” I reminded him in a cold tone. “Don’t forget that.”

Atlas leaned forward, his presence wrapping around me like his rich coat. “I haven’t,” he said in a husky voice. “But I also haven’t forgotten about the thousands of rebels fighting off my armies every day.”

Rebels?

“I didn’t realize there were any survivors outside of the prison,” I said softly, noticing a shift from some of the servants the moment the words left my mouth.

I knew the dangers of talking about Ivalon, but I couldn’t stop myself. He’d used the word rebels . Were my people still fighting back ?

“There are no survivors,” Lochlan said with a quick glance at the servants. “Only vermin that are in the process of being exterminated. Which is why we can’t flex our schedules anytime soon. There are too many meetings, swordsmanship lessons, and stacks of paperwork we simply can’t push aside.”

They’re still conquering Ivalon . Even after Aemastia had taken everything the citizens had, their spirits still survived. The servants were whispering around me, likely already fearful that I had heard any information about my home kingdom at all.

They were right to be afraid. If my people weren’t done fighting, then neither was I.

“I’ll join you,” I said simply. All three heads whipped around, looking at me as if I’d just told them I preferred swamp water over wine.

“Join us?” Atlas folded his arms, the smallest impression of a humored smile pulling his lips. “Are you suggesting that you follow us around while we work?”

“Why not?” I said with a shrug. “As you said, my only duty is to sit around looking pretty. Why can’t I do it in Your Highnesses’ presence?”

“Because you still haven’t accomplished the pretty part,” Lochlan grumbled, earning another stern look from his brother that he happily ignored.

“Not to mention, it’s simply not possible.

You might be our father’s candidate for a princess, but you’re still an enemy in my eyes.

I’m not letting you anywhere near our more sensitive information. ”

I frowned. Leave it to Lochlan to have a brain hidden in that puffed-up head. Sitting in on Aemastian meetings would have been an accomplishment that not even Damon could have pulled off, but I supposed I needed to keep my ambitions more realistic for the meantime.

“I agree with Lochlan,” Atlas said, and my frown deepened. “We can’t simply bring you along on official business.”

“Then what about unofficial business?” I prodded. “Swordsmanship lessons, perhaps? At the very least, I could watch.”

And learn...

“You’re a lady,” Cedric said as he pushed away from the table, dabbing his linen at his chin before tossing it onto his plate. “You wouldn’t want to watch something so barbaric.”

Lochlan stood too, and I took it as permission to rise as well. The servants started whispering again, but I didn’t care what they nitpicked me on now.

“You seem to forget that I watched an entire kingdom get slaughtered.” The ice in my voice was soul-shattering, silencing even the servants as if I’d frozen them too.

I gripped the back of the chair to brace myself, forgetting that I still wasn’t as strong as I wanted to believe. “I can handle a little sparring match.”

Cedric didn’t respond, and Lochlan only smirked.

Once again, it was Atlas who made the first move.

He slipped out of his chair, approaching me from behind.

I didn’t move. He reached around me for the chair I was holding myself up on, his arms slipping on either side of me like a set of prison bars locking me in place.

He pushed the chair forward, forcing me to let go of it and stand on my own.

He slid the chair up against the table, his chest pressing up against my back as the chair legs screeched quietly against the floors.

My head felt dizzy, and my legs weren’t ready to stand steadily unassisted, especially with an enemy at my back.

His warm body made me want to be sick, churning all the food in my stomach as he slowly released the chair and returned his hands to his sides.

“You don’t seem ready to handle much of anything at the moment,” he whispered in my ear, my skin burning under his tickling breath. “How are you going to cheer me on in a match if you can hardly stand?”

I turned around, whipping him in the face with my gold curls as I met him almost nose to nose.

He was a few inches taller than me, and I was betting he loved that.

If I hadn’t been so weak, I would have gladly accepted whatever punishment came from knocking the smug look off his bewitching face.

My ring felt heavier in that moment, weighing me down like it was trying to pull me closer to the floor and out of his reach.

“But I’m still standing.” I don’t know if I said it for me or for him, but I put all my power into each word. “After everything I’ve endured, I’m still standing. So why are you so afraid to let me stand next to you?”

He smiled. It wasn’t soft, or sultry, or even pleasing in any way. It made me angry, but at the same time I couldn’t look away. Cedric felt safe, Lochlan felt impossible, but Atlas felt familiar.

He felt like Damon.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, swiping his tongue across his teeth before biting it with that infuriating smirk. “You’re just not ready. We’ll see what you can do when you can do more than stay upright. Now go back to your room.”