Page 37 of The Crownless Prince

If running away with Marcus was what it took to avoid that future, she’d do it despite the risks.

Jairus finished his goblet.

“Refill the crown prince’s wine,” Lucien called.

“I’m all right—”

“Nonsense. You may not get this opportunity again, and now that the seal has been broken, it won’t keep as well.”

Adriana watched Marcus from the corner of her eye as he moved past Lucien and refilled Jairus’s goblet.

“And the princess.” As Marcus moved to her side, Lucien peered across the table. “Adriana, you’ve hardly touched your wine.”

“Don’t make me drink it all,” Jairus teased.

She forced a smile and took a sip. It was good wine, rich without being overpowering, sweet, and with a subtle cherry flavor. “Thank you, Lucien. It’s delicious.”

“Good.” He lifted his goblet in a demanding fashion, and Marcus scurried over to fill it. “I’ve another, smaller jar we can share on our wedding day before consummating our marriage.” He smirked.

Marcus jolted mid-pour, and wine sloshed over the side of the goblet onto Lucien, and in his sudden panic to correct it, he jerked the jar back and it slipped from his hands onto the table. By some miracle, the ceramic jar didn’t break, but more crimson liquid splashed out before Marcus snatched it up against his chest. His face red as a beetroot, Marcus shuffled back and doubled over in a bow.

“My apologies, my lord, for my clumsiness. I don’t know what—”

“Silence!”

Lucien’s hands curled into fists, his knuckles turning white. Slowly, he stood, his teeth clenched so tightly the muscles along his jawline and neck corded. Wine stained the lower half of his sage tunic anddripped off the edge of the table.

“Take off your tunic and clean this mess,” Lucien said in a low voice.

Marcus immediately set the jug on the table and undid his belt. Adriana looked to Jairus, half because she would get too flustered if she watched Marcus undressing, and half because she desperately hoped he would protect this servant he knew nothing about. They could have called for rags, but Marcus was already wiping up the spilled wine with his tunic. Just for a moment she glanced at him, now wearing a thin white linen undershirt that made the muscles in his arms more obvious. A few curls of chest hair poked out of the vee-shaped collar. Feeling a blush creeping up her neck, she turned back to Jairus.

Her brother was frowning, his eyes pinched, but he gave her a small shake of his head. He didn’t see a point in stopping this, and it wouldn’t change Father’s mind.

Marcus got down on his knees at Lucien’s feet for the second time that day as he pressed his tunic against the rug, soaking up the wine that had dripped onto the floor. Lucien watched with fire in his eyes.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you for a moment,” Lucien said as Marcus stood. “I need to change my attire and discipline this careless servant.”

Adriana wanted to protest that it had been an accident, to beg Lucien to be merciful, but he’d already said he didn’t want her interfering in how he ran his household. What if her protests frustrated him further, and he took it out on Marcus?

Instead, she put on a smile like donning a mask. “Do hurry back, Lucien. Please?”

His returning smile was patronizing. “Of course, my dear bride.” He snapped his fingers at his other servant. “Both of you, with me.”

Lucien strode out into the corridor, followed closely by Marcus, whose shoulders were hitched up toward his ears, and Lucien’s other servant.

After the door shut, she turned to Jairus, her stomach tied in knots. “What will he do? He won’t…hurt him, will he?”

“Probably.” Jairus’s frown deepened as his forehead creased. “It’s within his legal rights to use corporal punishment on a servant so long as it does not cause the servant’s death, maiming, or castration. Strange, though. That Marcus Williams seemed so capable.” He shrugged. “Perhaps he was unprepared for such candid mention of the…uh…second half of the marriage rites. I certainly was.”

It had shocked her as well, and she knew why it had upset Marcus. Lucien probably felt humiliated by hiscapableservant making such an error, and from what little she’d observed from him, he was not someone who would take kindly to embarrassment. She clenched her skirt in her sweaty hands, stifling the urge to run after them. She couldn’t afford for anyone to realize how much she cared.

Chapter 17

The moment they were out in the hall, Thorne grabbed Marcus’s undershirt and shoved him forward. “Lead us to your quarters.”

Gulping, Marcus bobbed a bow before hurrying down the corridor. He clutched his belt and wine-stained tunic to his chest. Jacob’s warning replayed in his mind. What would Thorne do? He struggled to recall what punishments he’d heard of or seen meted out on wayward or careless servants when he’d been a prince. It wasn’t something he’d often witnessed, and he’d never cared to punish or tattle on any servants himself. All he knew was that there were a few things forbidden under the law, including killing and breaking of limbs, which was a small comfort. But there were many things a man could suffer without dying or being maimed.

When they reached the room, Thorne and Roger followed him inside. Thorne slammed the door shut, and Edwin and Jacob leapt off their beds with choked “my lord”s.

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