The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (6)

Upstairs, he quickly pointed out the master suite before leading us past two more bedrooms, down six steps, and past a second set of stairs at the end of the hall. This second hallway seemed longer as we passed the elevator, a laundry room, powder room, and his son’s room before finally stopping at the very next door.

“This will be your room.” I was careful not to give my thoughts away as he turned the elegantly carved bronze knobs and pushed open the door. “Decorate it however you wish. This is your home now.”

The sincerity in his eyes made me realize why he’d lasted longer than the others had. Rosalyn wasn’t the only one with stars in her eyes. As I crossed the threshold, I wondered who would be the first to shake free of the illusion.

The room was twice the size of my old bedroom, and the bed in the center could easily sleep three or four. A plush yellow comforter and pristine white sheets stretched tight over the mattress with a mountain of pillows resting against a cream tufted headboard. “Your mother told me yellow was your favorite color, so I had Christina order some items I thought you might like.”

“Is she your daughter?” I questioned, barely managing to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“No,” Thomas answered tightly. “Christina’s my assistant.” He walked past and pushed open another door. “This is your closet.” I managed a quick look inside and barely glimpsed shelves, drawers, and racks before he moved on to another door. “And this is where you’ll find the bathroom.”

I walked inside and couldn’t help but gape at the elegance as I spotted a small crystal chandelier hanging above. It was a bathroom, for fuck’s sake. The marble floors were black and white, and the walls of the bathroom were midnight blue casting the room in mostly shadow until Thomas flicked on the lights.

The opulence wasn’t something I’d get used to in this lifetime.

A massive walk-in shower with glass walls stood on one side of the room. At least, I’d never have to worry about elbowroom whenever I washed my hair. I held back a snort when my gaze passed over a toilet surprisingly not lined with gold. An oval bathtub with a deep drop sat in the corner, and my bones quaked at the invitation. I caught a glimpse of my astonishment in the mirror spanning the double vanity and quickly looked away.

That was when I noticed the door facing my own.

I hoped it wasn’t another closet. I barely had enough clothes to fill a corner of the first closet. “What’s through there?”

Thomas seemed surprised since it was the first bit of interest I’d shown since arriving, but then he chuckled almost nervously.

“I hope you don’t mind…you’ll be sharing this space with Ever. On the occasions I entertain, I prefer to keep the other bedrooms with more private baths available for guests. On the other side of that door”—he pointed—“is Ever’s room.”

When we first arrived, Thomas said his home had six bedrooms, seven baths, and six half bathrooms, not including the two-bedroom guesthouse. Just how hospitable was he?

“You must throw quite a party,” I answered dryly. Rosalyn had her lip between her teeth again. Still, I waited for her to voice how inappropriate it was to have her sixteen-year-old daughter share a private bathroom with a sixteen-year-old boy—one who was very much a stranger. Instead, she shot me an apologetic look and laid a hand on Thomas’s arm.

“Thomas, honey, where is Ever? I’d love to have Four finally meet him.”

Me.

Not us.

Because she’d already made the prince’s acquaintance.

I wasn’t sure why I felt betrayed, but Thomas’s frown as he looked at his watch was enough to distract me from the emotion. “I’m not sure. He should have been here.” He pulled out his phone and quickly punched a couple of buttons before lifting the phone to his ear and strolling for the door.

The door closed with a soft click, but then I could hear him bellow, “Get home now,” in his thick northern accent. Rosalyn faced me with a hand on her chest and eyes wide.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here, Four.” Because why be happy when you can settle for wealth?

“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a guest, Rosalyn. This is my home now, remember?” Thomas’s words thrown back at her caused her to drop the Stepford act.

“I’ve had enough of your attitude. You made the choices, young lady, and now Thomas just wants to help.”

My lip curled slightly. “I’m sure.” I threw myself down on the bed and sighed when my body sunk into the plush mattress. Eternal resentment aside, this bed was the shit.

I swept the room with a careful eye—sheer curtains that welcomed twilight, a cream cushioned bench at the foot of my bed, white writing desk complete with a matching chair, and an oval floor-length mirror with LED lighting.

All the appropriate trappings for the newly found princess.

I snorted.

Rosalyn lingered, likely wondering how long before I messed this up for her.

“You don’t need to worry,” I said while staring at the twinkling chandelier, “I know what’s at stake.”

Moments later, I was blissfully alone.

I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until a knock on my door woke me. I checked my phone and saw that only an hour had passed.

“Four?”

I smirked at the hesitant note in Rosalyn’s voice. As usual, she wanted to avoid me as much as I did her. I rolled until my dirty, worn chucks hit the floor, then strolled over to open the door. Rosalyn Archer could turn heads in sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt—not that she’d ever be caught dead—but she was absolutely breathtaking when set to stun.