Twenty-five:
Prince Declan
There were camera’s in my face the moment I sat down with Princess Arwen. A few select press had been invited to the ball from the major newspapers. Tomorrow, the picture of her stroking my cheek and probably some of Fiona fleeing the ball would be everywhere. Worse, there was nothing that I could do about it. Even after our attempt to distract the crowd from the huge mess.
“Arwen, I really think I need to---”
Arwen sighed. “Go ahead. It’s probably better Fiona hears that the vultures are coming for her from you than anyone else. If anyone asks, I’ll make an excuse for you. Say that you got sick or something.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I exited the ballroom and made my way to the tower. As I was going up the grand staircase, I was stopped
