Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Can a suit really be made in three hours? I hate to make Mr. Booth and his team go to such trouble for me.” Hugo wrung his hands and lowered his voice. “Couldn’t we tidy up my suit so that I’m presentable?”
The maid’s eyes traveled down to his scuffed shoes and back up again. Her lips trembled, and her eyes danced with ill-concealed mirth. Yeah, he wasn’t close to being presentable enough.
“Mr. Baker, the queen has commanded that you are to have a new suit, and that is what you will have,” the maid replied. Hugo tried to smile and be grateful, but it wasn’t easy. All this was based on deception and lies. He was glad he wasn’t being decapitated, but he didn’t feel like he should be rewarded.
The maid leaned closer and whispered. “Don’t worry. Mr. Booth will probably use one of the many suits the prince has rejected. You’re very close in height and stature. It would be nothing to fix it for you. Besides, Mr. Booth has tailoring magic. He can whip up a new suit in an hour with barely more than a wave of his hand. Don’t let it fuss you.”
Relief rippled through Hugo. A second-hand suit was more tolerable. Especially if it almost belonged to the prince. “Oh, well. That’s not so bad.”
“And if you want to take a nap after your bath, there’s plenty of time. I don’t mind cleaning up after you.”
Hugo’s eyes darted to the bed. A nap on a comfortable bed did sound amazing after falling asleep sitting on a hard stone floor. “Thank you…”
“Florence,” she filled in with a little bobbing curtsy.
“Thank you for all your help, Miss Florence.”
The maid giggled and slipped out of the room after turning off the bathwater. Hugo barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief. A moment later, Mr. Booth entered with two flustered assistants behind him. He was a very stylish older man with a large bushy mustache that curled up at the ends. He lifted an equally bushy eyebrow at Hugo as he inspected him. With the snap of his fingers, one assistant jumped forward to strip off Hugo’s clothes while the other ran over him with a tape measure. Each time he took a reading, he shouted out a number to Mr. Booth, but no one wrote anything down. The tailor simply nodded as if he were committing it all to memory.
Within five minutes, they were gone, and Hugo was left standing nearly naked in the center of the room. The assistants had taken his clothes. He hoped someone remembered to return them to him. They had his best jacket and waistcoat.
But all that was forgotten for the next three hours. He soaked in the lavender-scented hot water and scrubbed off what felt like weeks of dirt and grime. Afterward, he found dishes of cut fruit, small pastries, and a pot of hot tea waiting for him. He ate a bit and enjoyed a nice nap in the softest, fluffiest bed he’d ever slept in.
Gentle taps on the door woke him later. A stiffly suited servant announced he would be Hugo’s valet and helped him dress in a pale-tan suit which perfectly complemented his brown hair and eyes. The valet even assisted with getting his hair precisely styled and his neckcloth tied in the best complicated knot for a luncheon.
A glance in the mirror revealed Hugo was decked out better than he had ever been in his life. At least he was dressed for the part of a proper companion for a prince. The only problem was that he didn’t feel it. Butterflies had taken flight in his stomach as he followed yet another servant from the guest room through many halls to a somewhat dark room decorated with a wide assortment of knives, guns and swords. In the center of the room was a round table with four chairs. It was set for two people, but the servant had placed the settings next to each other. Wasn’t that a little too intimate? Shouldn’t he be seated across from the prince? He didn’t want the prince to get the wrong idea.
After he arrived in the room, he waited.
And waited.
And waited some more. Hugo’s stomach howled and grumbled as he paced the room, looking over each of the weapons. His ravenous stomach ate up what nerves he’d suffered. He’d had just a bit of breakfast. If the prince couldn’t be bothered to join him for lunch, couldn’t someone bring him a piece of chicken and send him home?
The thought had barely formed in his mind when the door to the room suddenly opened and a handsome man strode in.
No! The handsome man.
The same beautiful man he’d protected from the runaway carriage less than a week ago. Hugo froze in the middle of bowing to the prince, his lips parting in a surprised O. The prince. The man he’d saved from the runaway carriage was Prince Everand, the only child of Queen Liliana and King Hubert.