His lips thin in displeasure. “Probably not, but Bellamy goes by Bellamy, so why can’t I go by Rowan?”
“I have no intention of calling the queen by her first name. We should likely get in the room and see how Mrs. Lids is doing.”
I start to move when he grabs me by my upper arm, stopping me. He releases me immediately, but it doesn’t matter. Hedoesn’t have to touch me. His proximity is a force all its own. And his gaze? It’s all over me. Studying. Analyzing.
“Marcella. Marcella,” he repeats, though his tone changes, emphasizing the last part of my name, and I wish I hadn’t told him my name was Ella that night. Yet another mistake that could cost me everything. “It’s a beautiful name.”
Fuck. My throat thickens, and I can’t move. He has me paralyzed. “Thank you, sir.”
“There’s something familiar about you, Marcella.”
“Perhaps I have one of those faces.” My heart stutters in my chest, but I don’t flinch. Hell, I don’t even breathe. If he realizes who I am, there will be questions. An investigation. I’ll be thrown in jail and likely charged with treason.
My one night with the prince could be my undoing. My downfall. The piece that unravels everything, more than it already has.
He scours my face feature by feature, his lips twisting in contemplation as he muses, “No. It’s not that. It’s as if we’ve met before.”
“Your Highness,” I start, not bothering to hide my curt tone, hoping my attitude will properly deflect him. “You likely saw me in passing but didn’t take notice because I’m the help, and it’s my job to remain invisible to you.”
His lips untwist and curl up into a crooked smirk that makes his left dimple pop. “Marcella, there is nothing about you that could be invisible to anyone.”
Let’s hope that’s not the case.
“I’m positive I’ve seen you before.”
“I’ve been working in this palace for four months. I’ve seen you on three occasions other than this one.”
A smile spreads across his lips. “Have you now? You’ve been counting?”
Fucking flirt. I knew that night meant nothing to him. I knew he was a practiced seducer, and I’m wholly inexperiencedwhen it comes to, well, anything related to men. I was weak and admittedly lonely, and I stupidly, so fucking stupidly, gave my virginity to the wrong man.
I puff out a breath that rustles my long bangs back from my forehead. “You mistake me, sir. There is nothing specific to you that I’ve been counting or keeping track of. I’ve seen His Majesty five times. The children twice. Her Majesty four. Coming from a small village, you can imagine how it’s not common place to see any members of the royal family. Keeping track is simply how my brain works. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go check on Mrs. Lids.”
Without waiting for his reply, I leave him standing here in the hall and enter the parlor. Mrs. Lids is propped up with a pillow, her face ashen and glistening with a sheen of sweat. The queen is fussing over her, insisting that she go to the hospital immediately.
I hear Rowan enter behind me, but I don’t turn to acknowledge him.
“Marcella.” Mrs. Lids offers me a wan smile. “Perfect timing. I’ve just spoken with His Majesty and the queen, and I’d like to officially offer you the role of interim palace manager.”
Well, shit.
I feign surprise, though I’m not, given the circumstance. I should be rolling in joy, yet something about this sits all wrong with me. And it has nothing to do with the prince, who I can still feel on me like a hawk.
I curtsy for the thousandth time in the last fifteen minutes. “I’d be honored. Thank you for your trust in me.”
And now it all begins.
8
ROWAN
Emily is loaded onto an ambulance with Javier riding along with her. The moment the doors shut and it drives off, Sebastian throws me a look. A look I know. A look I’ve seen with more frequency over the last seven months.
He turns to Bellamy and kisses her forehead. “Are you okay if Rowan and I talk for a bit before we meet with the new woman?”
Bellamy is hardly one not to read between the lines, but she’s also wasted with fatigue. She had a night terror last night, which means both she and Sebastian got little sleep. She needs a nap. She can fight it, but she needs one.
“Althea said she’d stay with the children,” he tacks on, reading his wife so perfectly.