Page 82 of The Royal Art of Revenge

She saw me pull that knife out of my sleeve like it was nothing. She saw me hold it against a man’s neck and pierce his skin without batting an eyelid. She saw me practically order her boss around as if he were my own personal employee.

“How long have you been with the Sinclairs?” My voice cuts through the silence, sending invisible ripples through the tension, easing it.

“A little over a year,” she replies. “His Grace sent me there when they had a job opening.”

“And you’ve been reporting back to him ever since?”

She shifts, her shoulders hunching slightly. “Yes. Once every two weeks, sometimes three, unless anything important happened. To be honest, most of his interest was in business matters and keeping an eye on Jasmine for the Royal Family.”

“And now?”

“His Grace instructed me to be your eyes and ears once the truth was revealed to the palace. The only things I report to him are matters of your safety, nothing else.”

I sigh, leaning back in the seat, and briefly close my eyes. “I’m not bothered about it, Marina. I’m not surprised he has people everywhere. People in power don’t stay that way by coasting through life. Every move is calculated, and keeping tabs on those who oppose you—heck, even those who support you—is wise.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“I assume you’re to stay there after I leave?”

“Yes. I will be reporting back matters regarding Rosalyn and Jasmine,” she says quietly, clasping her hands in her lap. “Especially when they pertain to you. His Grace has made it clear that protecting you is to be the priority from now, and he knows they won’t react well once you’re revealed as His Royal Highness’ fiancée.”

‘Won’t react well’ is perhaps the understatement of the century.

They’ll be apoplectic.

I, for one, cannot wait. With any luck, I’ll have a front row seat to that particular show.

“All right. Those reports will be shared with me, correct?”

“I believe so, but you’d have to check with the duke.”

“I will.” I look out of the window at the buildings that blur as we speed past. “When we get back, I’ll be sending you to return to your duties. Jasmine likely won’t be expecting me to come back, certainly not unharmed, so we must convince her that it was all a matter of coincidence.”

“How are we going to do that?”

I pause, then lean forwards. “Can we be left at the shopping centre instead, please?”

Sophia meets my gaze through the rearview mirror. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’ll be getting a taxi home anyway. I need to get a few things.”

“Very well.” She presses her lips together. “I will be nearby. His Royal Highness’ orders.”

I wave my hand and return my attention to the view out of the window. “That’s fine. I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenience for you.”

“Not at all. Your safety is my priority, Miss Harriet.”

The ghost of a smile plays at my lips. How many times have I heard that lately? Never in my life has anyone been so concerned about me or the people around me.

Still, what does it matter?

Things like that are fleeting.

Concern, care, protection... They all come with strings.

Not one of those things is given freely.

Even here, none of these people would give a damn about me if their superiors didn’t make them.