Chapter 3
The room erupted.
“Sir, are you saying…” the shopkeeper asked in disbelief.
The man answered crisply, “I serve Prince Roland. His Grace has ordered that any item Lady Cecily desires today–he will cover the full expense.”
Jewel Hall exploded with chatter.
“Prince Roland? You mean the Prince Roland–His Majesty’s younger brother? The one who never appears in court but is the King’s favorite? The wealthiest man in Crownspire?”
“I thought he kept his distance from women–so why go to such lengths for Lady Cecily?”
“Looks like she’s about to rise straight to the top…”
The whispers spread like wildfire. Cecily looked stunned at first, then delighted, and finally could barely contain the smug pride on her face.
“May I ask where His Grace is? I’d like to thank him in person,” Cecily said with flushed cheeks.
“The Prince isn’t available to meet at the moment,” the guard replied politely. “But in due time, he will present himself to you.”
Cecily turned to Eleanor, eyes glowing with triumph. “Sister, are you still interested in the hairpin?”
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she added with feigned innocence, “Oh, silly me–I forgot, the Prince has claimed all the new treasures for me. If you want anything else, I suppose it’ll cost you dearly. After all, who in Crownspire could possibly outspend His Grace?”
Eleanor’s expression turned ice cold. She looked sharply at Roland–only to find him watching Cecily with a gaze so tender, so full of affection, it was /almost grotesque.
From that moment on, Cecily had free reign.
Anything she so much as paused to admire—the Sapphire–Encrusted Gold Diadem, the Silver–Gilt Goblet Set, even the Swan–Maiden Tapestry, said to depict a princess cursed by the gods—all of it was quietly packed up and handed to her.
At last, Eleanor rose, unable to remain a silent spectator any longer. “Does your master intend to leave nothing for anyone else?” she asked coldly, her tone edged with steel.
The guard hesitated, casting a wary glance toward Roland, who gave the slightest nod.
“My apologies, Lady Eleanor,” he replied with practiced politeness. “Each item is a personal gift from His Grace to Lady Cecily. His only wish is for her happiness. The feelings of others… are not His concern.”
Eleanor let out a laugh–low and bitter. Her nails dug into her palm.
She turned to Roland, but he never looked
way. His eyes
s followed only Cecily, glowing
with indulgence.
Well done, Roland. Truly.
You’ve outdone yourself.
By the time they left Jewel Hall, Cecily was surrounded by noble daughters, basking in their praise like the sun itself.
Eleanor could hardly bear the pretense. She turned and left swiftly.
The moment she climbed into the carriage, she barked at the driver, “To the Silver Chalice Inn.”
She craved a goblet of wine drown her sorrows, to silence the pain for just one night.
But before the curtain even dropped, Cecily climbed in after her. “Eleanor! Are you going out for a meal? I’m starved too–take me with you!”
Eleanor was about to order her out, when Roland reached over and held the door calmly in place.
“Drive on,” he told the coachman.
Cecily chattered cheerfully the entire way.
“Roland, why do you think the Prince is so kind to me? We’ve never even met before!”
Roland’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “Because he’s fond of you.”
Cecily blinked, cheeks instantly flushed. “Don’t tease me like that!”
Chapter 3
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“No man knows a man better,” he said, his gaze locked on her. “Where his money goes, so goes his heart. And besides…
“How could anyone not fall for a lady as lovely as you?”
Cecily’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Then… do you like me too, Roland?”
He froze. He opened his mouth-
But Eleanor cut in coldly. “If you’re going to flirt, take it outside. This is my carriage.”
Cecily’s eyes welled up. “I’m sorry, Eleanor… I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be quiet.”
Eleanor didn’t respond. She didn’t need to.
She saw clearly the way Roland looked at Cecily—soft, aching, full of tenderness.
And the way he looked at her?
Pure disgust.
She laughed to herself, bitter and quiet.
Turns out, all men really do love a sweet little liar.
