The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 30: Attempting Escape

The days dragged on as the announcement of Andrew's top three drew nearer. My disastrous showing with the queen during my first lesson had apparently not been enough to put her off, for I was summoned back the very next day for a private session. She barraged me with more dilemmas, both ethical and social this time, her icy eyes never once betraying a single emotion. She'd clearly prepared herself to mind her temper as I blurted out answers that I hoped Andrew would be proud of. I made it no secret that I thought the nobility ought to focus a little more attention on the common folk rather than waste money on useless pastimes like erecting decorative fountains when a drought had ravaged the eastern farmlands. The queen had dismissed me once I'd answered all of her questions, giving me no more feedback than a purse of her lips.

If I'd hoped that queen lessons would be the worst of it, I was sorely mistaken. When Georgina had bounded into my room one morning, all dressed and ready for an early walk in the last of the glorious late autumn sun, Millie had appeared and dragged me off to sit in the stuffy gallery with the queen while the king's council met below. I yawned and daydreamed my way through the session, while Adelaide sat raptly, leaning forward as if she hung on every word. Ashley appeared just as bored as I did, but when the queen brought us back to her study for a debriefing, only Adelaide was able to answer any of her questions about the morning's events.

Dulciana kept reappearing at the most inopportune times, swooping in to monopolize Andrew, but only ever appearing at the major events. Andrew informed me that she was residing at the Ardalonian embassy, offended that they had even attempted to offer her a room at the palace.

"She seems to think that competing for the hand of a prince is beneath her," he'd said, toying with my stocking-toed feet as I nestled them beneath his leg, the two of us curled up on my love seat by the fire.

"Then perhaps you should tell her that your mind is made up," I said, wiggling my toes.

"Soon, my love, soon," he said, giving my foot a squeeze before he returned to whatever official papers he'd been poring over. On nights when he had work to do, he always brought me a book or two from the little library, though I found that watching him concentrate and puzzle over the realm's problems, his brows furrowed ever so slightly as he thought, was infinitely more pleasurable than reading.

Andrew visited me every evening that didn't involve a ball lasting long into the night. Having discovered my insatiable sweet tooth, he spoiled me with delicacies from the palace's pastry chef whenever he could. He also took it upon himself to ensure my chess skills improved all while sneakily probing me about my morals in a much more delicate way than his mother. We debated over the chessboard, his calm calculation a stark contrast to my apparently emotional approach. I discovered that he had an infuriating tendency to play devil's advocate, constantly siding against me in an attempt to coax forth my innermost thoughts.

"You could just ask me these things outright, you know!" I snapped one night, watching with a scowl as he cornered my king on the chessboard after having backed me into a corner with his words.

"I can read your face like a book when you get this worked up," he said, grinning at me, which only served to stoke my annoyance, "It's far more amusing than a simple conversation. Far more informative, too."

"I feel like you're interviewing me for a job position," I pouted, rising and throwing myself moodily onto the love seat. Andrew leaned back on his hands to survey me, still sitting in front of the fire with the chessboard gloating his victory before him. He'd removed his dinner jacket and loosened his tie, the ends hanging undone over his broad chest. It was hard to stay annoyed with him when he looked at me like that, patiently amused as he waited for my quick temper to calm itself.