The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Epilogue

"I don't understand," I said, clutching the warm cup of tea between my fingers. I was curled up on the love-seat in the little library, my stocking-toed feet in Andrew's lap. Dawn was creeping up on us, the night having run away in a whirl of laughter and dancing. My feet ached from my heeled slippers and my cheeks were numb from smiling, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

The tiara still sat atop my head, nestled in among my auburn curls as it had been all evening. Andrew had been true to his word, never once abandoning me throughout the entire ball. I stood dutifully by him as a steady stream of nobles congratulated us, most of them pleased but some of them, like Lord and Lady Winters, scowling. Andrew had little time to spare for his duties, however, for that night he seemed intent upon making up for all the dances I'd missed out on with him during my first Season.

Before I could so much as blink, the ballroom had emptied out as the clock struck three. Anne had long since retired, escorted out by James Amberly, but Thomas had spent the entirety of the ball dancing and flirting with other debutantes. Xavier and Georgina had celebrated with us, leaving only when Georgina's eyes had started to droop closed. Unwilling to sleep for fear I'd wake up and it would all be a dream, I'd convinced the princes to stay up with me as the winter sky brightened outside.

"And here we were thinking you were clever. I think you should request a do-over on your decision, Andy," Thomas said from where he was lounging in a cushy chair, his leg draped over the arm as he drank yet another glass of scotch. How he was still awake, let alone coherent, was beyond me.

"You should be treating your new sister with a little more respect," I said, chucking the lemon from my tea at the younger prince. He arched his neck to look around at me, a grin on his face. But it wasn't as cheeky as I was used to. Something was off.

"Mother found a loophole in the treaty," Andrew said, plucking the lemon from where it had landed on the floor to set it on his empty saucer, "It never specified me by name, only a member of the royal house."

The silence hung heavy between us as Thomas' sudden change from troublemaker to pensively sullen prince clicked into place.

"You're marrying Dulciana," I said, the weight of those words explaining Thomas' lack of spirit and reckless behaviour that night. The younger prince barked a laugh.

"Not if I can help it," he said, swinging his legs around to sit up properly, "Father is forcing one of us to the slaughterhouse and since my two other siblings have turned into a pair of lovesick ninnies, I'm the man for the job. Thankfully the treaty only calls for me to marry one of the many Ardalonian princesses, which means at least I'll have a choice."

"One in six seems to be decent enough odds," Andrew offered.

"I'm a gambling man," Thomas grinned, saluting us with his scotch before he tossed it back.

"Thank you, Thomas," I said, interrupting the crackling fire that had filled the silence growing between the three of us. Thomas smiled at me, his eyes sliding from me to Andrew.

"I couldn't live with myself if I had to watch him marry that donkey of a princess when he's so in love with you," Thomas said, "Besides, now that he's all soppy and in love, perhaps he'll turn soft and finally agree to some of my ideas on how to run the country..."

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Andrew pointed out.

"I know," Thomas grinned, "But you might as well admit that you've turned into a lovesick ninny."

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Tom," Andrew replied, earning a chuckle from Thomas, "Though I'll admit that I do so wish I could be there to witness all the havoc you'll wreak in Ardalone."