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)
Hugo nodded. “I understand. Bandits are common. People get angry about them but continue with their normal lives. Wulian soldiers kidnapping Prince Everand stokes old fears of another war. It’s harder to go about daily life when you’re afraid.”
Everand smiled at him, a look of pride shining in his eyes. “Precisely. We don’t want them afraid until we have no choice.”
Hugo’s stomach twisted. Marrying Everand would be a dream come true. The man had become a dear friend. He made Hugo laugh and feel accepted. Not to mention, Ev was devastatingly handsome and sexy.
But there was a price that came with marrying the crown prince—the man who would one day sit on the throne of Branem. Everand wasn’t a baker or a cobbler. He wasn’t even a landowning aristocrat with an army of servants. The man next to him was royalty, and he had to worry about the well-being of the entire kingdom. He had armies of actual soldiers to command. Millions of people depended on him for not only protection but their survival.
And if he married Everand, those responsibilities and worries would fall on his shoulders as well. No, he’d never be king. His title would be Consort, but he adored Everand. There was no way he’d allow his husband to shoulder the burden of fighting and protecting the people of Branem all on his own.
Yet, he’d found keeping up with two younger brothers and an eccentric mother to be exhausting. How could he handle being a consort?
Eighteen
Hugo spent the entire day prior to the ball with Prince Everand talking and wandering around the palace. He shared countless stories about his family, the great and the silly. There were many stolen kisses and whispered promises that made Hugo flush. In the evening, he took a moment to pen a quick letter to his brothers and mother, reporting that he was well and would be returning home the morning after the ball.
A small twinge of guilt struck when he thought of how he wouldn’t be attending with his mother. Jessamine Baker would have loved every moment of the ball. She would have soaked in the glitter and glamour of it all, reveling in rubbing elbows with baronesses and duchesses. She could marvel at the exquisite gowns and wonderful gems that sparkled under the gas lamps and candles.
However, Hugo consoled himself with the idea that if he married Everand, there would be other balls that his mother would attend as the mother-in-law to the crown prince. There would be no more worries about trying to marry off her last two sons or making sure they had enough money to buy coal that winter. No more crazy tales or exaggerations to make Hugo pull his hair out.
The royal ball was even grander than he imagined, and it took all his self-control not to gawk like a simpleton at the opulent ballroom as he descended the long, curved staircase into the sea of people waiting below. Marble columns stretched up to support a second-floor loft that held a full orchestra in black tails, while an enormous gold and crystal chandelier hung over the dance floor, lit by more than two hundred candles. The warm light reflected off the dangling crystals, sending out sparkles in every direction. There were beautiful bouquets of flowers everywhere along the walls and covering the tables that offered both food and wine.
And then there were the people. The Winthrop Ball had been a crowded affair, but this was a complete crush. There had to be close to five hundred people lining the walls and filling the dance floor of the ballroom. Dresses of every color flourished with each turn, while most of the men were in more mundane black tuxedos. There were a few daring souls who’d opted for more interesting colors. Fans fluttered, beating back the stifling heat in the press of people, and gems glittered in the light.
All his wonder ceased as his name was announced. More than a few heads turned and watched him descend the stairs. Mr. Booth had been correct that his perfectly crafted suit served as armor against those calculating looks. At the very least, they couldn’t snub him because of his attire.
Nearly an hour earlier, King Hubert and Queen Lilianna had entered the ballroom and danced a waltz before moving to a raised dais at the far side of the room where they would hold court for their closest acquaintances. Hugo had wanted to precede them so he could already be lost in the crowd as they arrived, but Everand kept him at his side. The mischievous gremlin reminded Hugo that he always arrived well after his parents. His way of refusing to be upstaged by his royal mother and father.
Thankfully, Everand admitted he might be pushing his luck if they were announced together, so Everand allowed Hugo to enter first. Yet, Hugo’s polished boots had scarcely touched the marble floor when Prince Everand entered the ballroom.