Page 102 of House of Blood and Roses: Vol. 2

He spins me under his arm and dips me back. "I'm surprised news of Lord Vermouten hasn't spread yet."

"It might, and just not have gotten to our ears yet. I think it would be foolish to think that no one is aware. A rumour is going around about Bastian punching you."

Linc raises an eyebrow but doesn't stop the dance. "Who knew about that?"

"I have to assume all of the servants in House Rothorne, and the healer you went to. But it could just be supposition based on anyone who knew about your nose and then thought about who would be the most likely to do that to you."

"Fair point," he responds. "Given my station, the list of people who might want to punch me is long, but those who would actually go through with it are short."

"And my brother is at the top."

The music comes to an end and I dip into another curtsy while Linc bows. Neither of them are very low, given our status.

He offers me his arm and leads me off the floor, only to stop in his tracks when he comes face to face with a scowling Bastian.

His wife immediately dips into a curtsy. "Your Highnesses."

"Lady Ermentrude," I respond with a small nod. As the wife of an heir, and that of my own House, not much is required.

"Beatrice, I need to talk to you," Bastian says, grabbing hold of my arm.

Linc looks on with horror, but I quickly disengage from my brother's grip.

I touch Linc's arm. "Perhaps you should go find Prince Marcus?"

He looks uncertain, but nods and looks around the room for his brother. "I'll be there when you're ready."

I nod and gesture for Bastian to step aside with me.

"Bea..."

"It's Your Highness in public," I correct him.

"You are my sister."

"And princess overrules that. Even Lord Fallmartin greets me that way. You should too."

He scowls. "There's no need to bother with formalities around family."

"That's not for you to decide. Ask our father if he thinks you should forgo using my proper title." Despite the strength of my words, my heart is racing as I say them. I've never stood up to Bastian until we came here, even if I had good reasons to before too. The only thing keeping me strong in this situation is seeing Linc's bodyguard lingering at the side of the ballroom, clearly watching the interaction. I'm not sure if Linc has asked him to keep watch on me, or if it's naturally part of his job. I don't suppose it really matters. It helps.

"What do you want, Lord Bastian?" It feels weird to call him that, but I can't exactly not now that I've insisted on him addressing me properly.

"I think Lord Fallmartin thinks I'm guilty of what happened to Thomas."

"Lord Vermouten," I correct. "And you are guilty."

"It was an accident!" he says it louder than he should, gaining a lot of attention from those around us.

"Not here," I whisper hastily. "Lord Fallmartin has been busy, that's all. He's had wedding events to organise, and the situation you caused to deal with on top of that. If he thought you being guilty was an issue, then you'd be dead already." I wince as I say the words. Not just because they're true, but because of what they're going to teach Bastian.

Even if what happened to Thomas was a pure accident, he's gotten away with it, which means that he might think that he can get away with it again. Though perhaps that gives Bastian credit for an amount of preplanning he isn't actually capable of.

"And stop talking about it," I add hastily, thinking of what Lord Fallmartin said about maintaining House Rothorne's reputation, and by necessity, Bastian's too. "You have no idea who might hear."

He scowls. "Since when do I have to listen to what you say?"

"Since your actions in bringing us here led to me becoming a princess." As much as I don't want to be the kind of person to pull rank, it feels rather satisfying to do it, especially with the shocked expression on Bastian's face as my reward.