Page 13 of Her Royal Houseguest

‘But they’re my things!’

The prince lifted his gaze from her to look down his imperious nose at Stanier. ‘You will see that it is done.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘Clean rooms. Two beds. We will arrange the worship area under the window.’

Stanier stared hard at the prince. It was a great show of butler outrage but he was looking at foreign royalty. He had to give in. And so, with a formal bow, he agreed. ‘As you wish, your Royal Highness.’

Anna tried not to groan. Though their butler would not insult their guests, he would be cantankerous with her and everyone else until the Siamese left. But that was tomorrow’s problem. For right now, she needed to find a place to put all her miscellaneous stuff.

And try not to die of embarrassment.

‘Put my things in the, um, nursery, Mr Stanier.’

She turned back to the prince only to have him slip off a heavy ring and hand it to her. She hadn’t meant to take it. Truthfully, she hadn’t even realised what he was doing but when he held out his hand, a lifetime of breeding had her accepting whatever was proffered as if it were her due.

‘Sir, er… Your Royal Highness—’

‘For your discomfort.’ Then he turned to Stanier. ‘Take me to this attic. We will make the temple place acceptable.’

Anna jolted forwards. Bad enough the servants would see. She couldn’t have a prince see her mess! ‘Your Royal Highness, please—’ she began.

The prince held out his hand to stop her. ‘No one will harm your things. I will see to it.’

She swallowed. She wasn’t worried about someone harming her things. She was embarrassed for anyone to see the clutter of half-finished projects, random papers and debris, not to mention the dirt in the corners that she’d meant to clean up but hadn’t had time.

‘But—’

‘You are the daughter of the house, yes? A princess here?’

She flushed. ‘Not a princess. I am the daughter of a duke, which makes me Lady Anna.’

He nodded. ‘Lady Anna. If the place is fit for you, then it can be cleaned to allow abbot Siharaj and Monk Prince Vaji. Or do your servants not care for you as befits your place?’

What was she supposed to say to that?

‘I am well cared for,’ she said, annoyed that he’d forced her to defend her own servants. Then she glanced at Phoebe who knew the particulars of her situation. It wasn’t exactly that she was disrespected here. She was the backbone that kept this household running but she was doing a terrible job of it. She’d barely managed to keep food on the table and her parents’ rooms cleaned. She wasn’t going to have maids tromping through her attic space. Not if she could help it.

But apparently, she couldn’t help it. And it wasn’t going to be maids but the footmen and Stanier who looked none too pleased by this turn of events.

When the monk prince spoke, his voice was low but no less kind. ‘We will help.’ And when the abbot sniffed his outrage, the prince quickly amended his words. ‘I will help.’

Damn it, there was nothing she could do. She didn’t want Prince Deva’s ring and didn’t want other people seeing what she’d created upstairs, didn’t want her home invaded by demanding royalty either. But she had no power here. Then her father clapped his hands and she’d lost.

‘Excellent,’ the duke said. ‘Stanier will see it sorted. Come join us for tea as soon as you’re ready.’

The prince gave him a curt nod, then stood waiting for their butler to lead. As Stanier just stood there, the prince arched a single eyebrow. It was a royal look, an authoritative challenge, and Stanier was no match for it.

‘This way, please,’ their butler intoned. The princes and the abbot followed him. That left her in the hallway with Phoebe, who tried to console her.

‘It won’t be that bad,’ Phoebe whispered.

‘No,’ Anna said. ‘It’ll be much, much worse.’

Chapter Four

Deva climbed the stairs, expecting the worst. Clearly, Lady Anna dreaded anyone seeing her place up top. He braced himself for filth or depravity. Instead, he saw clutter all around the edges of a wide open space. Nothing unusual or even salacious. He’d been raised in a harem. He knew the ugly things women could do. But he saw none of that here.

The windows were open, allowing a lovely breeze. Although there were papers and a rickety chair next to an old desk, he saw nothing to warrant the lady’s clear horror. Dirt had accumulated in the corners. No wonder given the clutter. But he also saw attempts to organise, piles that made sense to him. Neat tabulations in a ledger, though a closer inspection showed that the lady was behind in recording the accounts.

What he saw was disorganisation, not depravity. And that was not embarrassing. Few people enjoyed precision in their spaces the way he did.