Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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I did not wait to hear her before taking my leave. I paused until the doors closed, grabbed on to the sides of my dress to lift it in order to run as fast as I could to my father’s library.

Grinning wide, I couldn’t wait to learn all about this kingdom I was about to marry into. I could see it written now…

Princess Hathor Du Bell of Malrovia!

Oh splendid! Most splendid!

Take that, Aphrodite!

2

Hathor

“What are you doing?” Abena said as she burst into my room, dressed in her nightshirt, her light brown curly hair not wrapped for bed but a tangled mess.

“Nothing. Now go away,” I replied as I scanned the work on my bed. She did not go away. Instead, she rushed, and I quickly grabbed the papers before she could make a mess of them. “Abena, I am in no mood for your antics tonight as I am very busy trying to set the course of my life.”

“You’ve been doing that forever! Maybe you need help!” she stated as she jumped onto the bed, and I fought the urge to kick her right off the edge. But as I was now the eldest sister in the house, it was my duty to be mature.

“Even if I did, which I don’t, you are a child, so you are no help to me at this moment, Abena, merely an annoyance,” I replied, sitting up against my pillows.

“I am not a child. I am twelve years old now,” she said as she continued to jump like a child upon my bed. “I know a great many things.”

“Yes, you know a great deal about food, getting Mother to call for wine, and sneaking around upon the grounds. I look to do none of those things, and as such, your help is not required. Please go away now, Abena.” Still she did not listen and instead grabbed one of the pages of my notes from me so quickly that I could not stop her. “Abena!”

“Prince Wilhelm, age twenty-four—”

Taking the pillow, I smacked her so hard she nearly fell off the bed, and instead of taking it as a warning, the mad little squirrel jumped back up on her feet and grabbed my other pillow in defense, a wide grin on her face.

“Abena, no I—”

She smacked me right across my head, the papers in my hands flying everywhere. “Papa says violence brings forth further violence, so you deserve that!”

“I will show you violence, you little bug!” I hollered, scrambling to get onto my feet as she continued to hit me. Taking the pillow, I smacked her repeatedly, feathers pouring out in every direction until I hit her with such force that she slipped onto the floor with a large thud. Eyes wide, I dropped the weapon in my hands to check on her. “Abena, are you all right—”

The words were shoved back down my throat as her pillow hit my face dead on, the pain upon my nose and lips making my eyes water.

“You lose!” She stuck her tongue out at me, now back on her feet.

“What you’re about to lose is your hair!” I reached for her, but she ran, so I ran after her. She’d just about made it to the doors when they were wrenched open. I feared it was our mother, but it was only Ingrid, still wearing her day clothes. She held a candle as she glared down at us, something she only ever did in our mother’s stead by her permission, which meant Mother was quite aware of what was occurring but did not have the energy to come down and lecture us herself.

“My ladies, your mother has asked that I deliver this message,” she said, and both Abena and I stood still, waiting. “She says if she ventures down and finds even one thing out of place in either of your rooms, she will see to it that neither of you sees the light of day till you are her age. And that would be most unfortunate for you, Lady Hathor, as all activities becoming of a lady occur during the day.”

“It’s not unfortunate for me—”

Quickly, I wrapped my hand over Abena’s lips, pulling her back to my chest. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. We shall tidy up before going to bed.”

Ingrid nodded before turning from my door and walking down the hall as quietly as a ghost. I stuck my head out to watch when I felt a wetness on the inside of my hand. Then, releasing the wild child, I checked to see that she had indeed licked me. “Honestly, are you a dog, Abena?”

“If it gets me out of cleaning. Woof!” she said and took off running.

I gritted my teeth and stomped my foot to stop myself from yelling at her and truly bringing the ire of Mother upon myself. Turning to enter my room, I froze at the sight of the chaos before me: papers, feathers, and bedding all scattered across the floor—that little evil bug.


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