The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 25

After her disappointment at breakfast, Isabelle couldn't bring herself to face an afternoon pent up in the queen's sitting room. Over breakfast, she'd asked both Sam and Violet if they'd care to join her in exploring the palace, but the pair of them had exchanged an uncomfortable look.

"We've agreed to join the whist tournament that Cora and Henrietta are organizing," Violet said finally. "I'm to play with Henrietta while Cora plays with Sam..."

Isabelle's eyes had strayed to where Cora was holding court beside Henrietta at another table. The blonde's eyes had been on her, sliding away when Isabelle had looked over. Cora's lips had curved into a smile as she listened to Henrietta's conversation.

So this was how she'd be punished, then. Rather than ostracize both Violet and Isabelle, Cora was drawing Violet back into the fold to isolate Isabelle even further. Pairing Violet with Henrietta sent a message that Violet was very much a friend and not someone who should be ignored by the other debutantes. It made sense, especially now that Violet was receiving the attentions of one of the court's most eligible bachelors.

Before the all-encompassing dread that everything was spinning out of her control could overwhelm her, Isabelle had excused herself from the breakfast table and fled to her safe place.

The solar was dim and quiet in the dreary morning light, but a fire had been lit to chase the gloom. Outside, the flaming colours of autumn cut through the grey morning air, the dark, wet bark of the trees making the leaves even more luminous.

With her father's letter wedged into her corset and weighing heavily in her thoughts, Isabelle turned to the bookshelves lining the back wall. There had to be something useful here, perhaps something on the history of Pretanian relations with Germania. At the very least, she could hunt for a distraction so the mounting anxiety within her would remain at bay until that evening, when she would have another chance to corner the prince.

If he even attended that evening's ball.

Banishing the thought, Isabelle forced her mind to remain calm as she scanned the shelves. There was nothing that could answer any of her questions, but there were still plenty of fascinating books. Pulling out the book on codes and ciphers that she hadn't finished reading, she settled herself on the bay window seat and prepared to while the day away.

Towards noon, when the clouds had finally cleared and Isabelle was thoroughly engrossed in deciphering a practice code, the solar door opened. She glanced up instinctively, only to return her attention to the book as her stomach coiled into a delighted little knot.

"What do you want?" Isabelle asked the prince, her eyes locked onto the page. She focused on the chill of the windowpane behind her rather than the man standing in the doorway. Graham waited a beat before speaking, attired in a sharply tailored black jacket and trousers, formalwear befitting a session of the king's council.

"It is my palace, you know. I have every right to be here. More so, perhaps, than you," he said, turning away from her to peruse the shelves. He made quite the show of paying even less attention to Isabelle than she was to him and, to her, that was quite fine.

Especially since her thoughts kept returning to the last time they'd been alone in this very room.

Chasing such thoughts away, she remembered the letter wedged in her bodice. She needed answers and, by some miracle, the one man who knew anything useful had found her.

"Of course, your Highness," she said smoothly. "May I ask what brings you here?"

He paused, his hands in his pockets as he turned to study her. She ducked her head under his scrutiny, returning her gaze to the book in her lap.