Page 97 of The Royal Art of Revenge

She nods sharply.

“We will also discuss your actions,” he says to me, catching my eye over their shoulders.

“Leave,” Finn says coldly. “Before I force the matter.”

Nothing happens for a moment, then my father steps back, bows, and turns away from the three of us. Neither the Queen nor Finn move as he trudges down the hallway, running his hand through his hair, and disappears back inside the ballroom.

The doors close slowly behind him, putting a silent end to what just happened.

“Well,” the Queen says. “That was rather tense.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t know—I shouldn’t have—”

Finn turns and wraps me in his arms, gently cradling the back of my head. “You’re not at fault, Hattie. He waited until you were alone. He knew what he was doing, and nothing I heard you say to him was wrong.”

“Yes, darling.” Beatrix smiles sadly at me, reaching over and pushing a bit of my hair away from my eyes. “In fact, it is I who must apologise. I had someone watching your family all evening to prevent this very thing from happening, and they didn’t do their job properly. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. It’s… Well, exactly what I expected, to be honest. I knew he wasn’t going to take it well, but I at least thought he’d stay the entire night.”

And, really, that’s on me.

I’m a fool.

I should have known that given a choice, he will always pick Jasmine.

Should have?

No. I do know that. I know it without a doubt, but I suppose there’s still a tiny piece of me hoping the man I knew before my kidnapping is still somewhere inside him, still willing to choose me, still willing to put me first.

Fool. Fool.

Foolish little fool.

“Why don’t you call it a night?” Beatrix eyes me, tenderness and worry etching its way into her features. “You’ve greeted everyone you need to.”

I shake my head, pulling back from Finn slightly. “No. I’ll see the night through.”

“Hattie—”

“Very well, if you insist,” she replies, cutting Finn off. “Take a few minutes here to calm yourself down. I’ll return and personally make sure they’re escorted away from the palace. Come back in when you’re ready.”

“Mum—” Finn stops when she gives him a sharp look, sighing instead of finishing whatever protest was presumably about to leave his mouth. “All right.”

Beatrix’s eyes soften as she turns to me and gently touches my shoulder. “You’ve done a wonderful job tonight, my darling. There are an awful lot of people in there who are very impressed with how you’ve conducted yourself. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

There’s another lump in my throat, and I force myself to swallow, desperately trying to dislodge it.

With another warm smile, she leaves us, sweeping back towards the doors that are effortlessly opened for her.

Finn guides me to the nearest door, and we slip inside the dark room. “Here,” he says in a low voice. “Give me your hands.”

“I—” I stop, holding them against my front. “I don’t…”

“Your hands,” he repeats without an ounce of irritation or judgement in his tone.

Just care. Just kindness.

I hold out my still partially clenched fists, and with the most tender of touches, he uncurls my fingers one by one. Heat blooms across my skin as he rubs them, massaging out the tight ache that’s been lingering in each digit for the past several minutes.