Page 38 of House of Blood and Roses: Vol. 2

The door swings open before I'm even fully clear of the first layer of the dress. Even though I can't see who it is, the growl coming from my bed tells me enough. I turn around in time to see my furious brother entering the room.

"Where have you been?" Bastian demands.

"Get out," I tell him, pointing to the door.

He doesn't move.

"Jemima, if you'd excuse us, please." There's a part of me that doesn't want to lose the witness to how Bastian is acting, but I also don't want to subject her to whatever he's about to say and do. She's an easy target, and as helpful as Lord Fallmartin has been to me in the past couple of weeks, I don't think he'll think twice about covering up an injury to a servant.

"Of course, My Lady." She dips into a curtsy. "My Lord."

Bastian barely pays her any attention, which is probably a good thing.

I don't say anything as she leaves the room. "You should knock next time you want to come into my room. I was changing."

"I'll do as I please."

"No, you won't. This is my home too, and I want you to knock before you come into my room." My heart races as I say the words, but I know I need to. The only way Bastian is going to accept that I'm my own person is if I prove it to him.

"You didn't answer me. Where were you?" he demands, completely ignoring my perfectly reasonable request. Perhaps it's time for me to find the key to my room so I can lock it myself.

"Does it matter?" I ask, some of my confidence waning as I realise he's going to want to know if I was with Linc or not.

"You were with the Prince, weren't you?"

"Yes." I don't see any point in denying it. Bastian knows that I left after the argument, and that I was going after Linc, there's no point denying that's who I was with.

"All night?" There's a weird expression on his face, but I can't even start to guess what it means.

I raise my chin defiantly. "Yes."

"How dare you."

"How dare I what?" I snap. "Spend time with someone who enjoys my company?"

"He's not good enough for you."

"He's a prince," I point out. Though that doesn't even come close to the reasons I consider Linc being good for me. "How much better can I get?"

"He's bad news, Bea."

"And would anyone be good news?" I respond. "Would you approve of anyone who was destined to be my husband?"

From the expression on his face, I know his answer.

"Well, you'd better get used to the idea. I'll be marrying the Prince in a month's time. Our father isn't going to go back on the agreement, and neither is the King."

"Neither of them know you like I do," he counters.

"Oh? So where were you protesting that I shouldn't be getting married at all when the betrothal was announced?" I ask.

He stares at me but doesn't answer.

"You promised me that you hadn't agreed to sell me to the highest bidder, Bastian. That's what you said when we came here. And the next thing I knew, it was clear that was exactly what you'd done. You didn't have a problem with my betrothal to the Prince then. You didn't even have a problem with it when you were offering to help me meet him. You only seem to have an issue with it now that Prince Lincoln is an actual person in my life. Someone who is paying attention to me." My voice cracks but I resist the urge to cry.

"That's not true."

I raise an eyebrow. "Isn't it?"