I’m pulled back into the hallway. My stomach drops when I see it’s Milly that has rudely pulled me from the room. She hates me for some reason. If we’re in a group of people you’d never know. It’s only when we’re alone that she needles at me.
I don’t know what her problem is with me. Everyone else here is sweet and kind. They are to me, at least. But Milly treats me as though I were an outsider. I’ve heard her whispers of me thinking I’m better than everyone else. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but I know I’m not going to change her mind. So I choose to ignore her for the most part. Sometimes she makes that really hard to do.
“What are you doing sneaking around?” She glares at me.
“I wasn't sneaking, I was seeing who was here.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Sov is my target so don’t get any ideas.” She points her finger at me.
“I have no idea who that is.”
“Don’t play dumb. There is no missing him. You were checking him out.” Oh. My stomach twists for some reason. The thought of her with my handsome stranger doesn’t sit well with me.
“He’s your target or date?” I ask, wondering what Karin might want from him. For the first time in my life, I get jealous of how pretty Milly is. I don’t think it will take her much to get him under her spell. She has always been good at flipping her personality. I know that more than anyone else.
“Both.” She smirks. “Not that you’d have a chance anyway.” She laughs as she walks off. She never misses an opportunity to take a shot at me. I wish I could say that it doesn’t hurt, but it does. I turn to leave but run into a wall of a man. I grasp on to the lapels of his suit to regain my balance. I can’t help but pick up on his scent. It’s woodsy and reminds me of sitting in front of a fireplace. I swear I have the urge to snuggle into him, but instead I tilt my head all the way back to look up at him. Sov. Oh crap. My mind finally puts it together. He’s Sov Charmont.
“Don’t touch her.” A deep rumble comes from him. It’s then I notice a man next to him. He drops his hand away from my arm. Sov’s eyes stay locked with mine. I get lost in them for a moment. What is he doing to me?
I step back, but he doesn't let go immediately. When he finally does I dart off without saying a word.
Chapter Five
Sov
The girl from earlier today lingers in my mind as I ready for the celebratory ball. Parker slides the jacket onto my shoulders, ties my bowtie, and draws a brush across the wool a few times.
“A lot, and I mean, a lot of smoking hot honeys here,” comments one of the valets. Josh, I think his name is?
The other valet shoots a quick glance at Parker, who is glowering.
“The prince does not consort with Vieth Orphans,” Parker sniffs. “He will marry a woman of noble birth with suitable looks and temperament to be a Charmont just as his mother was of the royal line of Hartzordan.”
“What’s wrong with a Vieth Orphan?” queries Josh. “And I’m not saying our Sov here has to marry anyone, but a little something something ain’t wrong. These girls probably know tricks that I haven’t even thought of.”
I can see Parker mentally re-assigning Josh. He rotates the valets every six months or so operating under the theory that we can’t be too trusting. They get training somewhere, come to fold clothes, run baths, iron shirts, and then get shuttled off into other service in the organization. I don’t keep track, but Josh isn’t going to last more than this trip. He’s too loud. Valets should be seen and not heard, according to Parker.
I give Parker a small nod to let him know that he should be done fussing. “There’s nothing wrong with the Vieth Orphans other than the fact that while they’re fucking you, they’ll be thinking about all the ways to kill you.” I slip on my signet ring and take the knife from Zero to slide into a sheath strapped around my ankle.
“But what a way to go,” Josh moans.
“The prince does not sully his body on the beds of prostitutes,” Parker snaps.
“I don’t think they’re prostitutes, Park. They don’t sell sex. They give it, and should you lose your fortune in the process, that’s on you.” I pat the small man on the shoulder, hoping he settles down a bit. The man is a serious snob, but he’s served the family for almost forty years, so I endure. “Thank you for making me look presentable.”