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and unlocks the door, helping me inside. When he is back behind the driver’s seat, he speaks in a calm, soothing voice.

      “When you’re ready, Ruby, I want you to tell me what happened.”

      But I shake my head.

      “I will fix this,” he adds, and then he picks up a mobile phone. He doesn’t close the partition between us, so I hear every word.

      “Your Highness, something unexpected has occurred.” Pause. “Yes, I did exactly as we’d discussed.” Pause. “No, she is too upset to speak. But I know how to make things right. Miss Mantissa owes me a favor. If she is in town, I can have her bring over a collection of samples.” Another pause. “Yes, Highness. To the cottage this evening. It shall be done.”

      The call ends, and X pulls away from Belladonna Square, his eyes focused on the road.

      “They treated you poorly in the store, yes?” Rage is clear in his voice.

      I sniffle. “Yes.”

      “You told them I had called ahead, that you were on official palace business?”

      “She didn’t give me a chance.” My tone is biting. “Maybe you didn’t mean to shame me, X. But she did. I had money to spend, and her only intention was to make me feel worthless.”

      His jaw tightens. The muscle flexes at some deep, hidden emotion.

      “I am deeply sorry, Ruby. You of all people did not deserve such treatment. I did not think...” He sighs. “Prince Benedict will join you this evening in the cottage for a private shopping spree of sorts.”

      I force a smile at this while wondering what he means by me of all people.

      “It’s okay,” I say. “If she’s not in town or whatever. I have other clothes back at my place...” My voice trails off. Because I was looking forward to this, to being a princess for a day.

      But it took only seconds for that woman to remind me that she saw me as nothing more than a whore.

      “You deserve better than what happened just now,” X says in his mysterious tone.

      I used to think that, too, but it’s getting harder and harder to believe.

       CHAPTER FOUR

       Benedict

      THE LAST RAYS of the sun blaze across the western horizon as I pad across the palace grounds, ignoring the royal pond with the swan-shaped pleasure boats, the marble fountains filled with ancient Greek and Roman statuary, and the lush hedges clipped into geometric shapes.

      Earlier, X filled me in on Ruby’s disastrous visit to Belladonna Square, and I’m still pissed. She was judged on an excursion meant to bring her innocent pleasure.

      Acid gnaws at my core from my hypocrisy. After all, she’s an escort on my payroll, which makes no part of our relationship innocent even if my motives are pure.

      The first star appears as I enter the maze. Left. Left. Straight. Right. My footsteps are unerring, the result of a childhood spent chasing Nikolai through these twists and turns, and later both of us running from our youngest brother, Damien, who hurled himself forward, always intent on keeping up, even if it resulted in trip after trip to the infirmary for broken bones.

      Damien.

      Reckless. Impatient. Unstoppable. A force of nature. Nikolai and I had loved him, perhaps getting him into more trouble than befitting a much younger brother, but always getting him out of it again.

      His birth ended our mother’s life, yet no one could look upon our youngest brother’s face and fail to see the arrogant, brutal features of my father, the king. My Damien may be many things, but no one would ever call him a bastard.

      Unlike me...

      These days, however, we see him only in paparazzi photos. After he bedded our stepsister—also Nikolai’s first betrothed—he was banished from Edenvale. His portraits were removed from the halls. The press has a field day with his wild exploits. His fistfights in high-end nightclubs. His drinking binges. His tumultuous romantic affairs. His devotion to fast cars and racing.

      My frown deepens as a shadow ahead takes shape, merging into the form of a man.

      “Your Highness.” X dips his head in his curt version of a bow. No obsequious gestures for him.

      “Jesus.” I am startled into taking the Lord’s name in vain. “Where did you materialize from, thin air?”

      A smug smile serves as his response. “Miss Ruby anticipates your arrival. You will find Monique has treated her well. And I will see to it that the saleswoman who mistreated your guest is aware of the commission she lost.”

      The cobblestone gardener’s cottage rises behind his broad shoulder, a scene from a storybook come to life, a dwelling that would look at home in one of Grimm’s very own fairy tales. Every light is ablaze inside the small round windows. My Adam’s apple bobs. What will I confront inside? Scraps of lace? Strategically placed silk? Leather?

      It takes all my self-control to walk with a steady, measured pace. A young but capable-looking guard stands watch at his post. I recognize him as Gideon from the front gate watchtower, the one with the large strawberry birthmark on one cheek. Good. I’d ordered X to make sure Ruby remains protected during her sojourn, mostly from curious interlopers as our grounds are well fortified. Gideon’s inquiring gaze veers in my direction as I rap on the door.

      It swings open in an instant. An older woman, raven hair styled in an intricate chignon, sweeps into a curtsy. Monique Mantissa. “Miss Ruby is ready for your inspection.” She sidles past me and out into the maze with a throaty giggle. “I believe that you will be most pleased with her selections.”

      “Allow me to entertain you while the prince makes his examination?” X’s voice betrays no hint of innuendo, and yet the fashion designer’s breathless sigh is audible as the door snicks shut.

      My eyes adjust to the light. The air is rich with perfume: roses, jasmine and lilac penetrate my senses. A floorboard squeaks in the next room. I step forward, steeling myself for sin incarnate.

      A fire roars in the hearth, the same color as her shimmering golden silk and lustrous hair. Out of all the possible sights, I never imagined to discover Ruby dressed in a formal gown, looking every ounce as regal as any queen in Europe.

      She truly is a jewel.

      Ruby

      Heat warms my cheeks as the prince drinks me in with his eyes.

      “It’s too much,” I say. “I told them it was too much. I’m not meant to wear—”

      “That gown was made for you and you alone,” he says, no hint of irony in his tone. No condescension or judgment. I’m not entirely sure what to do with that.

      “Is there no pretense with you, Your Highness?” His dark brows furrow, the reaction endearing. “You say what you mean, mean what you say. You don’t let any of the bullshit get in the way.” I gasp and cover my mouth. “My apologies, Father.”

      He smiles and shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary. Ruby, this is your home for the next month. I want you to feel safe to be yourself here.”

      No big deal. Just be myself and find some painting for the Madam. I try to tell myself this isn’t a betrayal of my new benefactor but rather a step closer to saving Jasper. It’s not as if I’m going to do anything to the portrait. I just have to let the Madam know it’s here and where it is. What happens then is beyond me.

      I give the prince a once-over—my whole preposterous situation rolling out before me—and then burst out laughing. And there he goes again with the crinkled brow, completely disarming me and making me forget, at least for now, how I ended up here in the first place.

      Damn


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