Up for Heir - Stella Starling Page 0,5

at his tie with his other hand. He sent Hans a dirty look. “He’s an ass,” he said a little too loudly. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“S-S-Stop it,” Edvin whispered, knocking Oliver’s hand away from his tie and giving his brother a stern look, the one he’d perfected right after their parents had died since verbal lectures weren’t ever going to be his strong suit.

He’d let Oliver and Linnea, the oldest of their three sisters, come along today because they’d been excited about seeing one of the royals, but it had been with the strict understanding that they would be on their best behavior. That included not embarrassing Edvin in front of Hans, and also dressing nicely in the borrowed clothes Edvin had drummed up for them.

Oliver was clearly fluent in Edvin-looks, and he grinned unrepentantly. “But it’s strangling me.”

“P-P-Price of admission,” Edvin reminded him, secretly agreeing. A small price to pay, though, to be able to bring Oliver and Linnea somewhere fun. And he knew Oliver wouldn’t intentionally embarrass him. He was just young. Well, only two years younger than Edvin—and ten times louder and more outgoing—but, just like all the Blom siblings, he knew that Edvin was the one who held them together.

Oliver did tend to be a bit impulsive, though… as evidenced by the evil grin that spread across his face as he eyed the second truffle he was still holding and then sent a sly look in Hans’s direction.

“I bet I could land it in his wine glass.”

“Ollie,” Edvin said, trying to stifle a laugh. “No.”

Hans would never forgive him.

Edvin’s lips twitched. It would be funny, though.

And sure, ideally he’d like another chance with Hans, but if he was honest, that was probably never going to happen… and the man had hurt his feelings.

“N-N-No,” he repeated when Oliver’s eyes lit up, his brother clearly reading him like a book.

“You know you want me to.”

“We’re here for my j-j-job, Ollie,” Edvin said, going for stern but probably failing, because honestly, imagining the look on Hans’s face if Oliver were to do something that outrageous was childish and petty and deeply, deeply satisfying.

Oh Lord. Edvin was a horrible person, wasn’t he?

It would hurt the library. And Edvin’s job. And Edvin was far too responsible to ever condone such a thing. So… no. Final answer. The only answer. Definitely not.

Oliver opened his mouth again and Edvin elbowed him in the ribs before he could suggest anything else… and not just because he needed to rein in his brother’s mischief, but because for all that Hans had studiously ignored him all night, he was standing relatively close at the moment and Edvin would be mortified if Hans heard Oliver talking about him and realized that Edvin hadn’t managed to move on quite yet.

Embarrassing, but true, no matter what he’d said to Oliver. Hans may have fallen a little short of Edvin’s ideal Prince Charming, but even if he hadn’t always been very kind to Edvin, it had still been nice to have someone in his life who wasn’t… a responsibility.

Edvin immediately flushed with guilt, hoping Oliver hadn’t read that thought on his face. He loved his siblings. He really did. They were far more than just his responsibilities, and he’d do anything for them. It wasn’t a hardship to always put them first, it was just what family did, and Edvin was all the family they had. They needed him.

“Ow,” said Oliver distractedly, rubbing his ribs and scanning the room with bright eyes. Good. That meant he hadn’t picked up on Edvin’s moment of selfishness. “No need to get mean, Eddie,” Oliver teased. “I was only going to ask when the prince is going to arrive. And please tell me it will be one of the hot ones.”

Oliver grinned with the last bit, a lascivious one that reminded Edvin that his younger brother probably had more dating experience than he did.

Unfair… but when had fairness ever been a factor in life?

“They’re all hot ones,” Edvin said, the words miraculously flowing smoothly off his tongue for no apparent reason whatsoever. If only he could control and bottle that ability, he’d be golden.

“Fuck yeah, they are,” Oliver said, grinning even wider.

Edvin sighed and reflexively tried to adjust his glasses, managing to stab himself in the eye instead, since, of course, his glasses weren’t there.

He’d always been thankful that he’d been of age—barely—back when their parents had passed, since it meant he’d been able to be named guardian and keep his family together, but