Rule of Wolves (King of Scars #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,64

away from the bustle so that he wouldn’t be overtaxed.

Nina and Hanne curtsied.

“Go on,” the prince said with a disinterested wave of his hand. He was far more out of sorts than he’d seemed the other day.

They entered and sat themselves on low tuffets.

“You both need to work on your curtsies,” he observed with displeasure.

But Hanne only smiled. “I fear mine will get no better with practice. I’ve never been known for my grace.”

That wasn’t true at all. Hanne was graceful running or on horseback. The artifice of court didn’t suit her. And as for Nina, she could manage an exquisite curtsy, but Mila Jandersdat, widow of a man who traded frozen fish, certainly could not.

Rasmus’ eyes roved over Nina now. “Your mistress wears silk but dresses her maid in wool. That speaks of a petty and jealous disposition.”

He really was in a foul temper. Nina saw Hanne’s fingers flex slightly and gave her a warning glance—not too much, not too soon.

“Wool suits me very well,” said Nina. “I wouldn’t know what to do in silks or satin.” A profound lie. She could think of nothing better than sliding about naked on satin sheets. Matthias would have been scandalized. And what would Hanne think? The thought popped into her head unbidden, followed by a wave of guilt.

“I find most women learn to love luxury quickly enough,” the prince said. “I see no jewels at Mila’s neck nor on her ears. Your father should remedy that, Hanne. He doesn’t want to look like a miser.”

Hanne inclined her head, then looked up at the prince from beneath her lashes. “I should tell you that I’ll pass along your advice, but I have no intention of doing so.”

Rasmus huffed a breath. “You are brash to admit you would deny a prince.” Hanne’s fingers shifted again, and the prince gave a deep sigh of what might have been relief. “All the same, I can’t blame you. Your father can be quite terrifying.” He glanced at Joran, who stood at attention beside him. “Of course, Joran isn’t afraid, is he? Answer, Joran.”

“I have only respect for Commander Brum.”

It was hard to believe the guard was just sixteen, especially beside the prince.

“Joran is always appropriate. Minding me is a great honor. Or so they say. But I know better. It was some kind of punishment. Joran ran afoul of the good Commander Brum, and now he must play nanny to a weakling prince.”

“You are not so weak as all that,” said Hanne.

The prince took another long breath. He’d lost some of the rigid set of his shoulders, and the sheen of sweat was gone from his forehead.

“Some days I feel all right,” he said. “Some days I don’t feel weak at all.” He gave a little laugh. “And today I actually find I have some appetite. Joran, have food brought to us.”

But the servants had already heard and were scurrying to obey.

“We saw that Vadik Demidov is here,” Nina ventured.

“Oh yes,” said Rasmus. “The Little Lantsov never misses a party.”

“And is he really of royal blood?”

“That’s the topic of conversation at every dinner party from here to the Elbjen. Why are you so interested?”

Hanne laughed easily. “Mila is obsessed with Vadik Demidov.”

“Sweet Djel, why? He’s a boring lump of country bumpkin.”

“But it’s such a marvelous story,” said Nina. “A boy of royal blood plucked from obscurity.”

“I suppose it does have the ring of a fairy tale to it. But it’s not as if he was found herding goats somewhere.”

“Where was he found?”

“I don’t really know. Shivering in some obscure dacha he couldn’t afford to heat. Or at least I think that’s the story.”

“You aren’t curious?” Nina pushed.

The servants returned and set a spread of smoked eel and herring before them.

“Why should I be?”

Nina felt her temper rising. “He will be a king, will he not?”

“So will I, assuming I live.”

An awkward silence fell.

“I … I’m in a mood today,” said Rasmus. It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as a future king might come. “My parents felt it was essential that I appear in public quickly after what happened at the start of Heartwood.”

“They should have let you rest,” said Hanne.

“No, I was feeling quite well after that. But events like these … It’s hard for me to be in a room full of people I know wish me dead.”

“Your Highness!” Hanne exclaimed in horror.

Nina glanced at Joran, but the guard’s face remained impassive. “That can’t be true,” she said.

“I know the way people

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