The Prince

~Penny~

Almost a week passed after that heart-rending night, but I didn't hear from Lawrence. Despite wondering what he wanted to talk to me about, I lacked the courage to show up at his suite without his permission.

"Penny!! You can't keep the Royals waiting. What's taking you so long?" The Stable Master's impatient voice echoed through the narrow hallway, shattering the fragile remnants of my sleep. It was barely dawn. Rain was lashing against the windowpanes. It was already time to prep the horses for the Prince's departure to his soon-to-be bride's mansion somewhere up north.

I was one of the faceless stable hands in the vast stables of the Campbell palace, just like my brother, cousins, and uncle were. Like the stalls I cleaned, my life held a predictable monotony... hay, hooves, and the occasional fleeting memory of a carefree life with my parents before it fell apart.

My uncle was the Stable Master, a man as sour as week-old milk left in the sun. Blood meant nothing to him. After my parents died in a tragic train accident during a trip to America, my brother and I became his responsibility. Inherited, really. He never let us forget that we were orphans, living off his so-called "kindness." Soon after taking over the guardianship responsibility, he sold off everything my parents had owned. Their house. Their land. Their life's work. From then on, our life shrank to the endless drudgery of the Campbell stables.

My father was a gifted jockey, trusted with Mountbatten's most prized racehorses. To my uncle, my dad was a constant reminder of everything he wasn't. Ah, how I missed living up in the north. The freedom. The good life we'd had when my parents were still alive. It felt like another lifetime now.

Now, as I put my rich copper red curls into a tight knot and tucked them under a worn-out hat, a heated argument filtered through the thin walls of the living quarters above the carriage house.

"The Prince wants to see Penelope? You must have the wrong Penelope," I heard him scoff. "This niece of mine is a nobody. What could His Highness possibly want with her?"

My breath caught in my throat.

The Prince. 

The very name sent a tremor through me, a mix of longing and loathing. We were together for almost six months, or at least that's what I thought. I was loyal to him and loved him. But I was his dirty little secret. 

I pinched my cheeks and reached for the eyeliner. Lipstick would be too much and might look desperate since I was wearing plain, stable girl clothes. I hated myself for wanting to look good for him. And yet, I reached for the hand mirror lying on my bed and checked my face once more. My sapphire blue eyes looked so dull today against the coarse brown linen I was wearing.

"Penny! Penny! Where the hell are you, Penelope?" My uncle's voice boomed through the dingy hallway as he made long strides toward the room I shared with his daughters.

I blew out the candles, pulled on my boots, and slipped out the door, closing it quickly so his shouting would not wake his daughters. Standing next to him was Miss Henderson, who always quietly brought news of the Prince's clandestine desires. 

Ignoring my uncle's scrutinizing glare, I walked out of the servant quarters with her. The walk to the Prince's chamber was a blur. I felt a tug in my stomach the moment we climbed the stairs and entered Lawrence Campbell's suite. Inside, the prince lounged by the fire, his golden mane meticulously styled despite the agitation etched on his face. Beside him, his brother Lucian mirrored the tension.

"Ah, Penny..." His glare rested firmly on me. He dismissed Miss Henderson as I did a quick curtsy before him.

"Your Highness."

Hot tears pricked at my eyes, but I choked them back, focusing on the plush rug beneath my trembling feet. Why was I having so much trouble facing him? I wished I wasn't so invested in our brief relationship.

Walking over from the other end of the room, he hooked his finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. Those probing green eyes had been cold and uncaring since he dumped me.

"My Penniless Penny, tsk tsk tsk... You miss me, don't you?"

I stared back at him, wondering if there was even a flicker of longing in his eyes. There was none.

"I hoped to never see you again," he continued, "but then Lena made that point about your unforgettable face. I realized you are the best person for this task."

"Task?"

"Yes, quite an exciting task. Wipe off those pointless tears first." He grazed his finger underneath my breast but quickly moved it away, not wanting his brother to find out about us. 

I let out a frustrated whimper and stepped away from him. Bitter emotions rolled in my chest in response to his once familiar touch. He was unbothered by my reaction.

"I was telling Lucian just now that you wouldn't disappoint us, especially with so much at stake."

My eyes widened with confusion.

"Ah, these sexy fuck-me eyes..." he groaned. He walked over to a dark brown leather satchel by the table and pulled out a large stack of cash.

"Here, consider this an advance," he said, pressing the money into my palm. "To be honest, Penny, I expected you to beg me for cash when I pushed you away."

"Enzo, it was never about your money." My stupid eyes brimmed with tears again. If given a choice, I'd never go back to him. Why the hell was I crying then?

"I told you to stop calling me Enzo. It makes me want to bend you over this desk. I might send my brother away and do just that. I still think about you when fucking my fiancée."

He'd already slept with his fiancée? Well, what else did I expect? She looked so smitten by him. If I thought he'd broken my heart when he got engaged to her, he shattered it into a million pieces by being so casual about sleeping with her. After all the promises he'd made to me about loving me and never wanting anyone else...

But why did he have to get engaged without any pomp or propaganda? This whole thing with Lena had been a hushed affair for some strange reason. I knew I was trying to find reasons to explain his betrayal, but my heart wasn't ready to accept the truth.