Page 114 of The Royal Art of Revenge

My wife.

Those words tickle through me, sending a strange warmth blooming in my chest.

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Semantics.” He waves his hand. “Next time I speak to Jasmine, I might slip up and say that in front of her. Oh, even better—I’m going to get questions during my visit to the cancer centre today. Shall I refer to you as my wife then? Can you imagine the look on her face if I say that in public?”

“You’re pettier than I am.” I sniff, turning back to the mirror, and part my hair so I can fix the loose curls with the curling wand.

He walks over to the vanity and perches on the edge of it. He looks down, his blue gaze never leaving me, and I flicker my attention up to him once I’ve got the first lock of hair secured around the barrel.

“Besides, how many questions are you really going to get? The interview must have been played on television endlessly by this point. Didn’t we cover everything there? And in the statement the palace released?”

“Never underestimate the voraciously bullshit appetite of the media,” he says dryly, reaching over to free a bit of hair caught in my eyelashes. “Yes, they’ve got all that, but they haven’t heard directly from me. That’s what they want. So, naturally, I’ll be a good little heir to the throne and tell them exactly what they want to hear.”

“Which is?”

“That my fiancée is wonderful, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to be marrying the woman I’m utterly obsessed with.”

“You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

He grins again, his eyes doing that stupid little sunshine sparkle thing. “If tonight’s headlines don’t paint the crown prince as the most lovesick bastard in Askurg, I haven’t laid it on thick enough.”

With a sigh, I release the curl I was working on and move to the next one. “You’re really so dramatic. I didn’t know I was proposing to such a diva.”

“Why? Would you have made the mistake of marrying someone else?”

“I might have.” I meet his gaze. “Alec does have that little torture dungeon in his basement, after all. I’m not above a little dirty work.”

Finn’s eyes darken. “Don’t even go there. It still pains me that you had to get answers out of that man by yourself. As for marrying Alec… I’m not even going to justify that with a response.”

I remove the curler from my hair and lean over, propping my chin up on my elbow as I peer up at him. “Is that a little jealousy I sense?”

“Don’t play with me, Hattie.”

“It’s okay. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Sure, Alec might have a torture dungeon, but you’ve got the crown he’s loyal to. This is the best of both worlds.”

“You.” Finn pinches my cheeks together with one hand, making my lips pout. “If I didn’t have to go soon, I’d wipe his name off your lips.”

I blink innocently up at him, unable to speak because of his grip on my face. He quickly leans down and kisses me, then sits right back up, letting me go.

“One thing you do need to be aware of is that your family… they aren’t done, Hattie. They aren’t going to let this go.”

All the good, fuzzy feelings that were just floating happily around my body die. “I thought as much. I fully expect them to attack me, one way or another.”

“They’re planning something. We don’t know what, but Marina took the evening shift the night of the party. She said there’s a lot of anger and secrecy. She’s been keeping an eye on Jasmine and Rosalyn since then, and the fact they aren’t openly discussing you at all is extremely suspicious.”

“It’s fine. I can guess their next move.” I pick up the curling wand again and return to fixing my hair. “Jasmine, at the very least, will try to use the press to attack me and my childhood. No doubt there are several someones sniffing around trying to find out where I disappeared to and what happened to me when I was gone, and Jasmine will happily fill in some of those blanks. Truth be damned.”

Finn’s jaw tightens. “When they do, we’ll stop the stories running.”

“No, let them run.” I tilt my head to the side to check the curl at the back of my head. “I want them to run. Nothing is truly anonymous, not even in journalism. Eventually, all these stories will be traced back to the Sinclair family. If the Palace tries to suppress them, it’ll just make it look like they’re true.”

“I hate that anyone might think badly of you because of her lies.”

“You said yourself that night at the hotel that someone is always going to dislike me. I’d rather be disliked for something I’ve actually done, but people will feel rather foolish if their only reason for hating me is based on a complete lie.” I put the wand down and free the rest of my hair. “So, let them.”

“Mm. I suppose.” He pauses. “It depends on the story. Some we’ll hold. There’s no way my mother will allow the press to be flooded with negative stories of you, no matter what your argument is.”