Arnald lifted one nonchalant shoulder. Prince clenched a fist, resisting an urge to plant it in his cousin's sardonic expression. Alas, Maman would likely lock them in the dungeon if either one of them appeared at supper with a bloodied nose or blackened eye. She'd not show favoritism in any such instance.
Supper at Chalmers Castle was an immensely formal affair. On more occasions than not, foreign dignitaries or visiting prime ministers from other unions were found gracing the royal table. Tonight, however, there was only his future eye-batting bride, her angry sister, and their stout, overbearing maman for distraction.
An oppressive thought.
Prince felt as if he had not a single moment with his own maman since the night of the ball. In fact, he was quite certain it was so. With sudden insight usually reserved for witchcraft and womenfolk, he realized she'd been avoiding him…like the plague. Along the lines of the Black Death not seen since the early days of the fourteenth century. Impressive, actually.
The usual pre-dinner sherry party on most eves was found in the formal parlor. Tonight's affair, however, had been shifted to the family library. The last minute change was curious. Upon his entrance, a slight breeze ruffled his hair, prompting a quick glance in Esperanza's direction. Such freakishly strong eyelids? Oui, 'twas palpitating as steady as a rapid heartbeat to create such an updraft indoors. Phenomenal.
"Ah, here he is. Son!" Papa bellowed "You are here." Typically amused by this father's booming voice, Prince hid an unusual annoyance that almost choked him.
He inclined his head. "Papa."
Papa cleared his throat. "Yes, well. Your maman, son, she has been asking after you," he blustered. "Your ordeal, you know." Prince had not realized how unnaturally loud his father truly was until this moment, and felt the heat creeping up his neck.
"It is ten until eight on the clock, Papa." Prince informed him blandly, angling his head to the timepiece on the mantle. He then turned toward his fugacious mother with a smile only she would recognize as deviant. Understandable, of course, as he'd inherited it from her.
A becoming blush tinged her cheeks. Ah, things were looking up. His dark mood lightened at once.
"Darling, I trust you are feeling better after your mishap?" Her face showed concern, but her voice held unmistakable amusement. Her blush rescinded.
"Oui." Prince cleared his throat. "I am unsure what ailment assailed me, but I appear to be quite sound now." An unexpected urge came over him to laugh, the tension in his chest suddenly abating. Quite enchanting, Maman. She knew exactly what she was about.