The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 19

"How did you find me?" Isabelle demanded, the poker quivering before her as Prince Graham closed the door quietly behind him. He cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her makeshift weapon, sighing as he strode towards one of the side tables.

"A pair of little birds witnessed you fleeing your suite," he said, pulling a matchbook from his pocket to light a candle. "And I found it most bizarre for a fire to be flickering in this window as I strolled through the gardens."

"Did Alicia share any savoury news once you'd plied her with kisses outside?" Isabelle demanded. She bit her tongue as soon as the words had slipped out.

"You certainly do the poorest job of concealing your jealousy," Graham mused, touching the flame of the first candle to a myriad of others littered about the room. As he circled, Isabelle kept the poker firmly pointed in his direction.

"I am not jealous, only disgusted," Isabelle shot back.

"Really? Because to me, it certainly sounds a great deal like jealousy," Graham said, setting down the candlestick as he turned to face her. "Now, are you really planning on bashing me over the head with that or can we have a civilized conversation devoid of weaponry?"

"I'd like you to leave me alone," Isabelle said through gritted teeth.

"No," Graham said simply.

They glared at each other in the flickering, golden firelight as the flames of a dozen candles sent shadows dancing across the walls.

"Why?" Isabelle asked finally, lowering the poker.

"Because you're stuck in a daydream and you refuse to wake up," he replied.

"Perhaps I enjoy that daydream and I don't want to be woken up," she said.

"Would that we could all exist in a happy delusion, though in your case that presents quite a problem," Graham said, slowly sauntering away across the room, his hands clasped behind his back. Isabelle took advantage of his movement to sidle towards the door, abandoning the poker.

"And what problem is that?" she asked. He spun around to face her, freezing her in her tracks. She was still too far from the doorway.

"That you're too busy dreaming to open your eyes and notice what's going on around you," Graham said. "You've been at court for over a month now. Have you learned anything useful beyond the usual, meaningless court gossip?"

"I've learned that you're a pig," Isabelle offered. He rolled his eyes, unamused.

"The king has been in session with his closest advisors for the better part of a week. Do you have any idea why?" he continued. The flickering light was dancing off the jewels in his coronet in a most distracting way.

"I haven't the faintest clue, nor do I particularly care," Isabelle said.

"You should," Graham said. "Of all the people at court, you're the one who stands to gain or lose the most because of what's being discussed in such meetings."

"So I'm supposed to trust that you have the faintest idea about what I want?" Isabelle demanded. Graham's lips curled up at the corners as he advanced towards her, his hands still clasped behind his back. He moved slowly, deliberately, like a cat stalking its prey, his steps the only sounds in the firelit silence surrounding them. The medals pinned to the sash that cut across his broad chest winked as they reflected the dancing flames of the candles.

"I know a great deal more than you do about what you should want," he said, running his eyes over her. "For one, you are a little girl besotted with a very dangerous man, something you still fail to understand."