Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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“As I was saying before you distracted me, Your Highness,” I once more tried to speak through a stressful smile, “we need not make an effort to be in each other’s company, or converse, or have any dealings whatsoever together.”

“I—”

“I can see now why you asked me if I would regret my words. You knew we’d meet and be introduced no matter what. Now you wish to lord your great title over me. But do not fret, for I regret nothing, and I meant everything. If I have to, I will even write to the queen and repeat my words. You may be a prince, but you are also a villain and I have no interest in villains. I will only marry a hero. So…do enjoy your soup.” I nodded to the first course as it was brought and set before him first.

Once more I turned and faced forward, waiting in silence for my plate to be set. I was feeling rather satisfied with myself when he broke out into a laugh that caused everyone to look in our direction, to my absolute horror. I looked to see if he’d gone mad, but he merely leaned closer to whisper.

“Since you have cast me as the villain, I shall play my part to the very end and make sure everyone thinks we are the closest of acquaintances. Let us see which hero comes to your rescue.”

He was a monster!

I glanced around the table only to find everyone now either pretending not to notice us or staring in jealousy. And I could not say a word because I was sure they all assumed it was as it appeared…two young people flirting.

No!

“You said you were hungry, Lady Hathor, please eat, the soup is delicious,” he added sweetly before he took a spoonful himself.

I would not be taken for a fool in this manner. Lifting my spoon, I began to plot my countermeasures, for I was going to war.

6

Wilhelm

I am the villain?

She had one poor encounter with me and thus I was to be so labeled and disregarded? Yes, my words had been rather…unbecoming, but they were honest. If she should take issue, it should have been with how she garnered the reputation of a title hunter. I was merely judging her person based on what I had been told. If it was an incorrect assessment, she need only say so. Instead, throughout dinner, she did her best to engage the gentleman to her left, seeking to forget I existed at all, and so I spoke to the lady to my right. By accident, my foot had touched hers and she kicked my leg so hard, my mouth nearly dropped open. For someone who spoke so highly of decorum and courtesy, she seemed to have none.

Who in their right mind kicks a prince!

After dinner, we returned to the hall for dancing. I watched her laughing alongside her company now. Again, she was avoiding eye contact. What tenacious stubbornness!

“You are staring quite hard, my friend,” Lukas said as he came to my side, holding his glass of wine. “Lady Hathor is…”

“Your thoughts are mistaken, and I have no interest in Lady Hathor, nor was I looking at her,” I replied a little sharply, and made sure to add, “or at any young lady here. I am merely being polite, as my aunt demanded.”

“If only I could be the same,” he said with his eyes still upon the ladies like a wolf’s on sheep. “Damon is right. I am the only son. As such my mother is insisting I choose a wife and continue our line as soon as possible.”

“And you believe you are ready for marriage?”

“What’s there not to be ready for? Is it not a few words in church and an adjustment in rooms? My life would not change much,” he mused. He finished off his glass as he prepared to approach his prey. “Wish me luck.”

I watched him go forward for a moment, and just as I moved to follow, the sheep turned and came toward us. Looking me directly in the eye, Lady Hathor smiled as she walked up to me, arm in arm with none other than Lady Emma. Lukas paused, taking a step back, and my eyebrow rose, as I was unsure what had caused her sudden smirk. It felt devious.

“Your Highness,” she said very sweetly, and now I was certain she was plotting something. “I thought much on what you said over dinner, and I feel for your predicament tremendously.”

Predicament? What I said over dinner? I had not a clue what she was speaking of and it made me wary.

“I—”

“I often get homesick as well!” Lady Emma cut in, a smile on her pink lips. “Everyone thinks it silly, but I much prefer to stay home and read by the seaside.”



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