The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 51

The high council meetings dragged on and on, gridlocked as Duke Carveston challenged Graham at every turn. Isabelle's patience had worn thin by the end of the second day, but Graham didn't appear to least bit tried or annoyed by the older man's constant opposition.

"He's a nightmare!" Isabelle fumed that evening, when she met up with Graham outside the council chambers. The prince had spent his final few minutes in whispered discussions with other lords as Isabelle waited, the growling in her stomach only worsening her frayed temper.

"He's Archibald Carveston, it's to be expected. Besides, he's going to abhor the changes I'm planning, so it's best to let him get this out of the way now," Graham said, unfurling Isabelle's icy fingers from the fists she'd been clenching since luncheon. His grip was warm around hers, his lips caressing the backs of her hands. Meeting his loving, green gaze, all the frustration and pent-up anxiety from facing off against the contrary Duke Carveston slid from her thoughts.

"I have a surprise for you," Graham said finally, after Isabelle's sigh had released the tension in her stomach.

"A dinner as delicious as last night's?" she asked, thinking back to the spread of food that had awaited her in her suite the evening before. Graham had escorted her back after the council had retired, the debutantes glaring in jealousy through cracked doors as they passed. Lissa had been awaiting them, once again playing the grinning chaperone when Graham slid into the seat across from Isabelle to spend the evening in her company.

"Better than that," Graham said, his lips twitching up in a most devious grin. Her curiosity piqued, Isabelle allowed him to lead her away from the debutantes' wing and deeper into the palace. The darkened hallways remained a maze despite the amount of time she'd now spent living in Highcastle, the dark grey stone of the walls the only hint that they'd entered the old palace.

"I told you that I'd find more suitable living arrangements after the council," Graham said as they walked, finally pausing before a rather unremarkable door. "But I find that my patience with the debutantes' wing has waned. After you, my love."

Fixing him with a questioning look, Isabelle opened the door and stepped into a room that made her debutante suite seem like that of a pauper. It was decorated in golds and blues, at least twice the size of her old suite. A set of double doors to the right opened to the bedchamber, a massive canopy bed dominating the far wall. Across the sitting room, a pair of glass doors stood closed, the frost tracing delicate patterns in the moonlight between the heavy navy drapes. A fire roared in the grate, chasing the chill from the room as Isabelle ran a hand over the carved wood of the loveseat armrests.

"Do you like it?" Graham asked, his hands in his pockets as he sauntered in behind her.

"Did you think I would say no?" Isabelle asked, fighting to keep from laughing. Of course she loved it. Blue was her favourite and if it meant she didn't have to endure the debutantes' tittering giggles through the walls any longer, she'd have gladly slept under a pantry shelf.

Thankfully, such an opulent suite was far better than a pantry shelf.

"I'd hoped not," Graham said, coming up behind her to wrap her in his arms. Isabelle leaned back into him, savouring the feel of him nuzzling her neck.

"Good evening, your Highness and your Grace!" Lissa trilled, suddenly appearing from the bedchamber. Isabelle jumped, but Graham held on to her, directing a lazy smile at her maid. When he didn't release her mistress, Lissa folded her arms and fixed Graham with a stern glare. She was opening her mouth to say something else when Graham's arms loosened, his hand lingering on Isabelle's back.

"Good evening, Lissa," Graham said, still grinning. "I must commend you on being a most excellent chaperone."

Lissa pursed her lips, dipping a curtsey as a thank you.