Bear Prince: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Royal Bears Book 1) (12 page)

CHAPTER

13

“Hannah.”

She didn't turn. She wasn't ignoring him, exactly. He knew the exact moment she was aware of his presence as the width of his body disturbed the air at her back.

“You’ve been in the garden all morning.”

She was a little surprised he knew that. But then, she supposed one of her guards told him.

Hannah jerked a shoulder in a shrug, shifting on the stone bench.

“Would you like to eat lunch together?”

That would be... nice. It wasn't that often during the day he was able to spend time with her. Because the Assembly had decided to postpone their final decision on her status until the baby could be tested, Hannah had been quietly shuffled to the background. Miahela still oversaw her education, and there were a few required appearances. But it had been put out that Hannah and Andrei wanted her to rest during her first trimester to ensure she didn't miscarry.

She snorted. If it was the will of God she miscarry, then no lack of activity would prevent it. No woman ever lost a baby from a hard day's work.

Which was the problem. She hadn't worked a single hard day since coming to Casakraine. Her shoulders slumped. What did it matter if they had lunch together? He would just go off again this busy, meaningful, complex life and she would be back here... sitting in the garden staring at plants.

“
Hannah.”

Andrei moved into her line of vision. She glanced up and shrugged again. “Sure. Let's have lunch.”

Looking away to avoid responding to the flash of frustration in his eyes, she rose. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

He took a deep breath. She felt his agitation through the bond but when he spoke his tone was gentle. “Hannah, you're going to have to talk to me. We can't keep going on like this.”

She smiled, brittle. Edged. “Maybe I should go back home.”

Blue eyes narrowed. “You are home.”

“This is not my home. I don't care for the house, I don’t prepare our meals. I don’t work, I don’t
do anything important
.” She stopped, hearing the rise of her own voice.

“You are a Princess. You don't need to clean or cook.”

“What
do
I need to do, Andrei? Besides sit around and get fat?”

She rarely used that tone of voice with him- and only recently. It felt odd, this restless temper of the last few weeks. Before she’d always channeled her focus and energy into dance, or into studies. At home, into her chores and trying to earn a scholarship. Now- nothing. She realized boredom was literally getting on her nerves.

He watched her, no change in his expression. “What do you need, Hannah? You haven’t been very communicative lately.”

And, unspoken, was that he wasn’t the kind of man to cajole her to speak when she choose silence. Fine. Her fault.

“I need a purpose other than to be your mate. I'm a dancer, Andrei. I want to dance. At the very least, I need to do something useful. I wasn't raised to be idle.”

Blue eyes studied her a long moment. “Forgive me,” he said, surprising her. “I should have realized you were unhappy. I thought... well, never mind what I thought. Let's eat lunch, and we'll sort through our options, hmm?”

Hunger returning now that gnawing anxiety began to recede, Hannah accepted his outstretched hand. They ate, discussed various endeavors that might interest her. As they spoke, she watched chagrin flash through his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

He sighed. “I suppose I assumed you would just want to rest and study quietly.” He studied her, doubtful. “Human women- aren't they a bit... hmm. Isn’t pregnancy-”

“I think you should stop while you're ahead,” Hannah said, eyes narrowing.

He laughed, rising. “I have to return to work. I'll brief Mia on our talk. I'm sure she'll be happy for you help with some of her projects, especially since you're taking up so much of her time with your education.”

She scowled at his quirked brow, but smiled as he left the room.

Mia came to her later for their regular lesson. “My brother tells me you're bored. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Hannah sighed. “I didn’t want to be a bother, or sound like I was complaining. And I know it's important I learn all of this stuff.” A wave of her hand encompassed the tablet, regular hardbound books and stack of notes. She did like to study by hand.

“It's important, but if you feel up to doing some real work, there is plenty for you to do. You are Andrei's mate, even if the Assembly hasn't officially recognized you as Princess yet. Give me a day or two to sort through some of my projects and find a good fit? I have some ideas, but I'd like to take time and place you appropriately.”

“That sounds fine.”

“In the meantime...” Miahela hesitated. “Wouldn’t you like to leave the castle? You aren’t trapped here.”

Hannah's eyes widened. “I can leave?”

The Princess frowned. “Of course you can leave!” The dark eyed beauty stared at Hannah. “Did you think we were trying to closet you away?”

“Well...”

Mia rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath. “Go get some comfortable shoes, and your purse. I can't go with you, but I'll have a car and your guard escort you to the city for the evening. It will do you good to do some shopping. Eat dinner by yourself, even. You must be sick of my brother by now.”

Hannah grinned, but refused to rise to the bait as she hurried to choose a pair of Mary Jane style sneakers and a plain, though couture, purse. Her wallet had a shiny new plastic card in it, along with enough cash to feed a family of four for a month. She glanced in the mirror briefly, making sure the tailored jeans and knit blouse she wore was decent- though, of course they were. Casual the outfit might be but it was still new, and designer.

The trip to town was scenic. Forest and mountains on one side of here, and the rolling green farmlands on the other side. Seeing the grazing cattle, horses with their young and flocks of sheep, she almost felt at home. Once in the city, Hannah watched people- Bears, she assumed, as well as humans- go about their business. The city was a charming juxtaposition of modern and old fashioned. Current brands housed in well kept, but vintage brick buildings. The driver pulled into a covered parking garage. Hannah waited until her door was opened and emerged.

“Lady Hannah.”

She turned, met the neutral eyes of a man of indeterminate age, dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket over a button up shirt. Staring, she realized,

“Oh! You're from the castle. I didn’t recognize you out of the... suit.”

On palace grounds the real guards- not the liveried men who opened doors- dressed in three piece black suits, with earpieces. Skulked in the background and in general made themselves invisible. This one stuck a bit closer, though. And though he never spoke to her, she recognized his face.

“Ma'am. This is a popular shopping district. I'm to be your guide, if you require one, or you can use the maps posted on the streets and wander at will.”

It was the most words she'd ever heard one of the men speak. “I'd like to wander a bit, and we can go from there.”

He led her out of the parking garage onto the street. She spent a happy hour walking in and out of shops, browsing merchandise, pleased at the eager courtesy of the clerks. She'd realized soon enough that this particular district catered to women of means, and wondered at the lack of snootiness of shop employees. No matter how she was dressed, Hannah knew she didn't at all have the air of a rich, spoiled woman.

It was maybe an hour of walking before she realized how far they'd wandered from the garage. She stopped, and the guard was by her side immediately.

“Lady?”

Hannah moved to the side of the walkway so they weren’t in the way. “I just realized how far we've walked. I don’t suppose...”

“The driver will pick us up when you're ready to go.”

She nodded. “Perfect. I think I'd like a cup of tea and a snack, and then-” Hannah stopped talking, eyes catching on a sign across the street several shops down. Without speaking, she headed towards the building. A plain white sign, with a stylized dancer all in black. And when she approached, large glass windows allowed onlookers to see inside. A studio, several young girls at the barre. Hannah watched for several minutes before entering.

Piano music, a familiar strain even, greeted her. There was a small entryway separated by a threshold where she waited, not wanting to interrupt. The instructor, a woman of medium height, brown hair pulled back in a braid, noticed her and approached after giving brief instructions to the students.

“I’m sorry, but the studio is closed during class.”

Hannah sighed. “I’m sorry, I should know better. Do you have a brochure?”

The woman studied her. “You are... American?”

She beamed. “Yes. I'm a dancer, actually.”

A small smile. “Yes, I can tell by your posture.” Her head tilted. “I'm Margarid. There is a brochure, yes. Were you interested in taking classes while you are in Casakraine?”

“I live here now- I would like to continue my training. Or instruct, if you can use a volunteer.” The words tumbled out of her mouth without her evening thinking about it. “I'm Hannah Fi- Sahakian.”

She stuck out a hand, excited, barely registering the exasperated sigh from the man at her back.

Margarid’s brow furrowed. “Sahakian?” She glanced behind Hannah at the plain clothes guard, looked again at Hannah. Took the outstretched hand, slowly.

“You are Prince Andrei's American ballerina,” Margarid said.

Hannah blinked. Andrei had told her the name Sahakian was common enough that no one would immediately assume she was a royal. But she supposed a Black American ballerina named Sahakian might be a giveaway, considering there had been enough media coverage of the Prince's new mate for anyone who followed the royals to put two and two together.

“I didn’t realize anyone knew who I was,” Hannah said.

Margarid smiled, again. “It's all over the news, Lady.” She curtsied, perfectly graceful. “I’m honored.”

Hannah’s hands clapped together. “No, no, I'm dying to get back in a studio. I’m used to training every day, and now...”

“I see. Wait one moment.”

Margarid walked lightly down the hall, disappearing through and door and emerged a moment later with a glossy trifold flyer in her hand.

“This is a schedule of our classes. You will dance for me and then I will see what training you need. I have student instructors who help drill the little ones. And a royal student instructor- what a coup.”

Hannah laughed, taken in by the woman's unabashed grin. She didn't blame her. Even though she didn't see herself as fancy, she could understand how an onlooker might be awed by the Sahakian name.

“I have to ask Mia about my schedule, but I'll call you and arrange an appointment for my audition.”

Margarid blinked at Hannah's casual reference of Princess Miahela as 'Mia', but she smiled and nodded.

She returned to the palace past the time she and Andrei usually had dinner together. Rushing to their suite- he hadn't allowed Hannah to remain in a guest suite whether the Assembly like it or not- she burst through the doors, brochure crumpled in her fingers from excitement.

Andrei lounged in the corner seating area, a wineglass in his hand as he flicked through television channels. The sight brought her up short. She'd never seen him watch programming before. He shut it off before glancing over.

“Miahela told me about the wild plot she concocted to send you into town without me,” he said, rising.

She eyed him warily until the amusement in his eyes relaxed her. He approached, placing a soft, casual kiss on her lips.

“Your guard texted me to hold dinner. Are you hungry?”

“I had a snack,” she said. “But I could eat a steak.”

“It just so happens...”

He led her to the dining area through another set of doors. It had tickled her, the fact that he lived in an apartment inside a castle. Granted, a spacious, designer decorated, luxurious apartment- but an apartment. They sat at a small table on the balcony, moments later a member of the kitchen staff arriving with a wheeled cart. He must have alerted them the moment she'd stepped in the castle.

Thick steaks and baked sweet potatoes were revealed along with spears of bright green broccoli. When she'd first arrived, they'd served elaborately plated meals that looked more like art than food. After a week of that nonsense, Hannah called the head chef and had a nice, brief chat, after which they'd been served normal meals. Delicious, and certainly elevated. But normal. Andrei's expression the first evening after her chat with the cook had been priceless.

“Thanks,” had been his only response.

“I didn't read Gerald’s report,” Andrei said. “Did you go shopping?”

Hannah took a bite of the sweet potato, dropped a dollop of whipped butter and tasted it again.

“I need brown sugar,” she said. “Sweet potatoes aren’t meant to be savory.”