The woman sighed, shaking her head at Nero, sprawled out on the grass. “Oh, Nero, what is the matter with you?”
Nero laughed, hard and painful. “Dear sister, I have quite the list, shall I read it to you?”
“Get off the floor and return to the party.”
“I’ve had quite enough of partying, wouldn’t you agree? Quite ruined myself, I think.”
The woman—who Elena now realised must be Princess Lucia, Nero’s sister—groaned, strode forward, and dragged him to his feet.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, head rolling against her shoulder. “You’d like it if I was ruined. If I messed up so badly mother completely disowned me. Paved the way for you as queen.”
Lucia stared at the ground as if she could draw daggers from it, a look that suggested perhaps she thought just that. “I’d prefer it if you could get your act together and be the prince everyone expects you to be.”
“Liar,” he continued, voice lined with ice. “You want the throne, Luce. Just admit it.”
“I want it insafe hands,” she continued. “Now shut up, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
His head lolled to one side. “I’m just doing what you said,” he snarled. “Being the prince everyone expects me to be. That’s all I’ve ever really done, that you know of…”
His voice trailed off, and fairly soon, the two of them had disappeared. Elena stared after, not sure what to make of the exchange, and whether any of it was worth reporting to Snowdrop. ‘Prince Nero is a drunken fool’ was hardly newsworthy.
But was he merely a drunken fool? In the brief few minutes she’d seen of him, she’d witnessed him charming and flirty and cruel and sarcastic. She’d heard someone say once—though she couldn’t for the life of her remember—that Nero was “a viper masquerading as a dog.” He was viewed by many as a favoured pet of Queen Mira’s, practically living at the Imperial Palace despite being Firenze’s crown prince.
And yet, when he spoke to her…
Elena shook it away, unable to put it into words.
Moments later, Pip arrived. “Was that Prince Nero I saw being dragged away?”
“It was. Is he all right?”
“I have no idea. Why do you ask?”
“There was just something…” She pushed the thoughts back. “Never mind. Good evening, Pip of the Palace, how are you?”
He offered her a hand, helping her off the ground. They moved away from the spot, as if Prince Nero’s presence had tainted it. “Better, now.”
“That was smooth.”
“I may have been practising a little before I saw you.”
Elena giggled, and Pip paused, as if something about that sound had struck him.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I forgot the cake.”
Elena laughed. “It was not the cake I came for.”
Pip’s cheeks reddened. “Well, that’s lovely to know.”
“How was your day?”
“Oh, the usual, busy and boring. Yours?”
“The same. Only I quite like the work.” They sat down together on the grass, eyes staring upwards at the starry sky. “What would you be, if not a servant?” she asked him after a moment had passed.
“A tea-maker. Obviously. I’d run a little teashop in the merchant’s quarter.”