by May Sage
Aiden frowned. He had thousands of visitors everyday; none of them got to see him, save for those who managed to score appointments.
“Trust me. You’ll want to speak to this one.”
Oh well, he could use a break from his father’s matchmaking instructions.
“Fine. Dad, don’t you have something to do?”
The King shrugged, not moving from the sofa.
“Nah. You’re doing all the work, that’s fine by me. I’ll carry on supervising.”
Yeah, right. By that, he meant eating all of his biscuits, drinking most of his tea and bringing up Belle every ten minutes or so.
His visitor passed the threshold, and Aiden immediately went up to his feet.
Fuck.
“That’s what I thought,” Benjamin Thornton said, seeing panic in his gaze.
Shit. Did that mean Belle knew who he was, too?
“I broke into your account, remember?” the thief said, interpreting his expression correctly. “It said your name on there. Then, the Beast miraculously disappeared just when you came back. I can add two and two just fine.”
His eyes narrowed; what did that guy want?
“He broke into one of your accounts?”
Armand sounded impressed, rightfully so.
“Man, Aiden’s accounts are monitored and protected by the royal security.”
Ben shrugged.
“Yeah well, the royal security sucks. It was child’s play.”
Before his father could offer him a job or something, Aiden intervened, making the introductions.
“Dad, this is Sibelle’s brother. Dipshit, meet the King.”
“Lovely,” the guy responded, showing a degree of contempt that made Aiden want to remind him what it felt like to be nailed on a cross. “Either way, I just popped by to give you that.”
He dropped a check on his table, amounting to a hundred thousand. Without another word, he started to leave the room.
“So that’s it. No stay away from my sister or anything?”
Ben chuckled, turning back.
“No, by all mean. Go get her. Just make sure you call me, first. Wouldn’t wanna miss it, when she rips you a new one.”
Aiden had almost let him reach the threshold, before stopping him in his tracks.
“Thornton, I have a proposal for you.”
He was going to regret that; he really, really was.
“What could it possibly be, your highness?”
Fuck. In for a penny…
“I hear there’s an opening for a guy who could design a decent security system around here.”
That got his interest.
Aiden made a show of taking, and ripping the check on his desk in little pieces while he talked.
“And well, I have it under good authority that you might have some understanding in the matter. There might be the occasional breaking into foreign government systems, too. Doing a bit of spying on the sly, if you’re not adverse to those kinda things.”
He knew enough about Ben to be certain he’d bite. The guy had crazy skills, but he’d never held a full time job; not because he couldn’t, but because hacking into things was thrilling, challenging, and most jobs were boring.
Aiden was offering a salary for doing what he loved on a daily basis.
“The salary’s pretty good, it comes with tons of benefits, as well as some sort of title…”
“Cut the crap. What do you want?”
Aiden’s toothy smile was positively Machiavellian.
“I want you.” Before it got too weird, he clarified: “Your oath. I’d like you on my side, Ben Thornton. Soon, you’ll be my brother; I’ll get a say about your nieces and nephews’ godparents, and about who your sister invites for dinner parties.”
It was the first time he’d acknowledged it out loud; sure, the King had babbled about getting him to marry Belle for days, but Aiden hadn’t said anything about it yet.
Now he had, though, it seemed factual, evident. There was no uncertainty, no doubt. Everything was a matter of when rather than if.
Sibelle Thornton could look at the Beast and see someone worth caring for though his appearance, his bullshit, his occupation. Well, if that hadn’t been a deterrent, he was pretty confident he’d manage to sway her, eventually.
He had to.
And if he had to give a job to her thief of a brother to get there quicker, so be it.
“Help me get Belle and we’ve got a deal.”
“Damn. Now that was not lame at all. I’m impressed, son.”
“You’d really think I’d sell my sister for a job.”
“No. I think you’re fully aware that your sister will be mine whether you approve or not. I just figured, if I had you in my corner while I do the groveling, it might take a year or two, rather than five.”
Ben glared, for a long time, before sighing and coming back into the library.
“Ok, so here’s what you need to do. First, you need roses. Loads and loads of roses.”
♦
Day fifteen after the Prince’s return. Still no word from the Beast. She’d watched enough news to get utterly frustrated with everything attached to either of them.
The first issue was the Beast’s absence. Not only from the Nest – that, she could have understood. But he also wasn’t anywhere else; she caught glimpses of Clocks and Lightwood on TV, but none of him.
For goodness sake’s, the guy wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
She tried to ignore it, but there was a sense of unease growing in her chest. Was he alright? He might be hurt – why, otherwise, wouldn’t he have written?
Unexpectedly, it was Ben who came up with an answer to that one.
They’d been at the clinic together, waiting for Lucia to finish her latest appointment, and he’d asked if she was alright.
She’d lied of course, but the guy had sort of known her for twenty-three years, so that had been rather pointless.
“It’s nothing, I swear. Just… Ok, don’t judge, alright?”
Ben gave her a look which translated to me, judging you?
He never had, and never would.
“I kinda… grew quite close to the Beast. Not like that. I just pretended to fuck him to piss you off, dipshit.”
“Why does everyone have to call me that?”
She shrugged; if the shoe fits.
“Anyway, I like him. I’m pretty sure he liked me. But he hasn’t been in for two weeks – he hasn’t even written a word or, I don’t know, called…”
Ben chuckled, before interrupting her.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, baby sister… but your Beast? He’s a guy. Kind of a manly man, in case you haven’t noticed. I bet anything he gathered up every guy he knew and asked them what to do about you. And while they probably advised everything from serenading to declaring his undying love on TV… no one devoid of a uterus would have suggested writing a letter. Or calling.”
Strangely that conversation cheered her up. Ben might have a point; it was possible that the Beast was just being a guy.
Day fifteen was the day the roses came.
She’d smelt them from dawn; it wasn’t an old lady’s perfume, but the real fresh, natural scent. She was so intrigued she got up to go see what it could be.
There were attendants chartering around trees; actual blossoming trees, not stupid cut roses. All of them were pale; white, soft pink and yellow. None were the red roses she loved above all, but damn. Any rose was pretty amazing.
They were taking them to the back, to a closed garden which had been entirely gray – without a shred of life. The roses now paved a path from the doors to the fountain against the end wall.
“What is this…”
“The lord’s redesigning the rose garden in main residence, my lady. We’ve been asked to get rid of that lot.”
Just like that, she was pissed.
She’d convinced herself for a few instances that it had been for her, but no. It was just some stupid su
rplus they’d had to throw somewhere.
Belle was also pissed at the Beast, for taking the time to design gardens, when he couldn’t be hassled to pop by and say hi – the palace wasn’t that far – and pissed at the Prince, for taking up all his time, as well as pissed at herself, for still expecting him to care, and above all, pissed at those servants.
Because they were playing her. She knew it now. Why else would they all ensure they never called him anything but “the Lord.”
They knew his name; they must.
She wasn’t sure how, but she knew exactly where to go for answers. It came to her so quickly, she wondered if she hadn’t voluntarily delayed the decision to go there.
Without changing out of her night gown, Belle walked straight down to the only floor she had yet to explore.
The underground dungeons far less creepy than what she’d imagined; sure, there were antique cells, with bars and all, but they were clean and mostly spider-free.
Every room was unlocked, saved for one; but as she’d mentioned before, she was Ben Thornton’s sister. Sorta.
Using a hair pin, she got in.
There were loads and loads of stuff stored in there, most in boxes, some bare against the wall. Furniture, books, paintings. Everything was costly – priceless, in fact.
The decoration in the entire building was luxurious, but this was something else entirely. History.
The large, delicate carvings belonged in a museum.
Paying more attention, she soon realized that the room was insulated; a cold, safe box where these treasures could rest in peace.
“Just don’t go down to the dungeons,” he’d said.
What are you hiding, Beast?
It took her less than five minutes to find out.
The first painting might have been irrelevant, the second, a coincidence, but by the third, she knew.
All these great men and woman represented on the canvases, all these books, these regal sculptures bore the same name, the same emblem.
It belonged to the Archers.
Fuck me didn’t even begin to cover it.
Chapter Twelve
the Spy
She wasn’t sure why she’d made it to the Old’ Hand. Familiarity? She’d needed to think, clear her head, and that place seemed as good as any.
Oh, and obviously, there was the awesome ale to take into consideration.
She’d been sipping her drink, trying to get her head around what she’d discovered when she heard them.
Belle had expected it; hell, hadn’t she even warned Beast about it?
Beast, otherwise known as Aiden Maximilian Archer.
She wasn’t even surprised. Or annoyed. Or, anything, to be honest. It was one of those things she’d just shrugged at, thinking “well, of course, that’s him.”
Like she’d known for a while.
That was the thing she had to get her head around, because she couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t feel like hitting something – preferably something tall, royal and annoyingly hot.
But the conversation she overheard managed to pull her out of the funk, making her inner drama seem irrelevant.
“He said everyone was invited. That’s the perfect time. There will be too many people, the security is bound to be compromised.”
She immediately knew what they were on about.
The party.
Belle had thought about the same thing, when she’d heard the Prince was inviting everyone to the upcoming anniversary of the Archer reign.
Stupid Beast. Did he want to get himself killed?
“If we have twenty, or let’s say fifty guys on the scene, we’ll get him. There’s no way his soldiers and Guards will spot all of us.”
“It’s gonna be tricky, Pete. Sure, everyone’s invited in the gardens, but I’ll bet anything the royals will stick to themselves, probably inside.”
“Sure,” the one called Pete shrugged. “But Saint Aiden is trying to prove he’s not a dick. He’ll come out at some point. That’s when we’ll get him.”
Shit. Pete had a point: Aiden would be stupid enough to come out. And their plan was smart: it would be the best time to get to him.
Before she knew what she was doing, Belle was on her feet, walking towards them.
“Well, well. If that isn’t Belle. What can I do for you, beauty? Wanna join us?”
She smiled as sweetly as she could.
“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.”
♦
Belle wasn’t arrogant enough to fail to notice when she was out of her depth, and badass as she was, she knew she didn’t have a chance in hell to win the day by herself, so she did what she had to do, and broke into the palace.
It would have been much easier if Clocks, Lightwood or anyone had given her their bloody phone number, but whatever.
She’d never been to the castle before – sure, she’d seen some shots on TV here and there, but it surprised her. She’d expected opulence, and it was definitely amongst the words she would have chosen to describe it, however it also was nothing she’d expected.
There was laughter and life, she saw people playing tennis indoors and out, the staff seemed as cheery as the guest, somehow. In fact, it was pretty damn impossible to decide who was there just to play around and who was working.
It took a while, but eventually, she spotted them.
She didn’t see more than the Beast’s back, but it still felt like a thousand butterflies were let loose in her stomach.
His hair was tied up at the back of his head, and she could imagine stroking it. It looked soft and shiny. Damn, he’d been sexy and all before, but she liked the hair, too.
Unsurprisingly, Clocks and Lightwood were firmly planted on each of his flank.
Belle sighed; she’d wanted to talk to those guys, but getting the Beast up to speed was not part of the plan. One thing, she knew for certain: he was going to be seriously pissed when he realized what she was up to.
Plan B, then.
She carried on creeping in the shadows until she found him.
The King was an older, and admittedly, just as hot, version of the Beast, so there was no mistaking him, despite the fact that the guy just wore jeans and a t-shirt – certainly no crown.
The issue? There were three Guards between them. Great.
Belle sighed, before going out the window, and climbing across the walls, three windows across, to get to the room where he had been lounging around.
She’d had her hair pins ready, but thankfully, he’d been so good as to leaving the window open. She hopped in, not bothering to be discreet.
“Hi,” she said, waving at the older man, who was looking at her as though she had three heads and a tail. “Don’t try and kill me, or something, I swear I’m not here to cause you any harm…”
Ok, she was babbling away.
By this time, his Guards had converged, three humongous mountains aiming for her.
Oh, for everything holy in the land!
Belle grabbed onto the closest object – a book – and threw it at the cane aiming straight for her, before jumping on the wall to avoid the next kick.
How was she supposed to explain herself while dancing around, dammit!
“Stop!”
The three mountains reluctantly stayed on their heels, still blocking access to the King, until the man actually pushed one of them aside.
He looked up at her, still perched on a platform at the very top of the window.
“Sibelle Thornton, I take it?”
Ok, she had to admit, that was rather surreal. The King knew her name?
Then again, she’d kinda had a thing with his son, so she supposed that was possible.
Unexpected, but possible.
“That would be me,” she replied, leaping back down.
The guy shook his head, turning to his Guards.
“Now that’s just not fair. How did that kid land her?”
♦
Enough was enough. He�
�d believed he’d dreamt it, at first, but now he knew.
After smelling the honey and cinnamon cocktail all morning, he was certain. She was there.
Aiden followed his nose which was still as sensitive as it had been while he was a Beast, and made it to the last floor.
There was nothing there, save for the surveillance system; Ben’s new domain.
Apprehensive as hell, he made his way to his office, to find everyone converged within the four walls.
Clocks, Lightwood, Vera, Ben, his father and his creepy Guards – everyone save for Belle.
“Where is she?”
No one asked how he could tell she’d been there, thankfully, so he didn’t need to reveal just how much of a freak he was. I can smell her did sound creepy. And the slightest bit obsessive, too.
“If you’re referring to Belle,” the King replied, “she didn’t stay long. We would have called you, but… well. Either way, gentlemen, I do believe we’re all done here.”
The merry band of traitors ran out while Aiden and Adrian started a staring contest.
This time, Adrian broke first, when a huge grin spread on his face.
“Damn, son,” he said, “that girl’s a peach, you lucky bastard. The grandkids are going to be gorgeous.”
“What was she doing here, dad?”
“Believe me when I say you’ll work it out soon enough. There’s no point worrying about it now. Come, we need to get dressed. We have a party to get to.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dance
“Roses are red, Violets are blue. If you don’t live through this, I will kill you.”
“Romantic. And perfectly apt, too,” said a familiar voice in her earpiece.
Belle had been ever so slightly pissed when she discovered that her brother had taken a job at the palace without telling her, but thankfully for his ass, they had more important things to worry about right now – like stopping a group of extremists, to whom she incidentally belonged, from murdering the Prince and so on.
The only issue? The stupid idiot wasn’t helping. The anti-royalists had underestimated his stupidity. Sure, there was a large tent under which most indolent nobles lounged, but Aiden was actually walking amongst the people, shaking hands, exchanging banalities, kissing babies.