The Secret Prince Read Online Free

at the party. She thinks you’re so brave and handsome, upholding justice like a real police knight.”
    “That’s what I
was
doing, Valmont,” Henry snarled, and then gestured toward his shirt. “This isn’t
my
blood.”
    Valmont’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he shook his head, as though trying to dislodge Henry’s explanation. “Whatever, Grim. I just thought you should know that you’re out of your league.”
    “With what?” Henry asked in exasperation. “Fighting you? Because the boys this afternoon were a lot bigger than you are. Or are you talking about
Miss Swann
?”
    Valmont’s cheeks reddened. “I’ll thank you
not
to talk about Miss Swann.”
    “I don’t even know who she is! This is absurd.” Henry shook his head, baffled. What good did it do them to chase after girls when they weren’t yet fifteen, when they were stuck at Knightley and restricted from female visitors, with Frankie as the only girl around?
    “You take everything I want,” Valmont accused.
    It was the old grudge again, back to their days atthe Midsummer School, when Henry had been the first boy in five years to pass the Knightley Exam. Of course, the reaction to
that
hadn’t exactly been the honor and glory that was supposed to come with breaking the so-called Midsummer Curse. Especially because Henry had been a serving boy at the time, and no one even knew that he could read, much less that Professor Stratford, the school’s English master, had been secretly tutoring Henry at night.
    “I don’t do it on purpose,” Henry returned. The two boys glared at each other, hands balled into fists, each daring the other to make the first move.
    Suddenly, without warning, Valmont’s hands shot out and shoved Henry squarely on the chest.
    Startled, Henry stumbled backward. The soles of his old boots were worn down, and he slipped on the polished floorboards. Henry desperately grabbed hold of the banister, his heart hammering. Less than a step behind him, the stairs angled sharply downward.
    “Trying to kill me?” Henry asked casually, fighting to stay calm.
    “I—er, I—,” Valmont stuttered, terrified at how far it had almost gone.
    “Forget it,” Henry said, throwing up his hands indisgust. “This ends
now
. I’m not going to threaten you with the horrors my friends and I could plan for you back at school, and I’m not going to warn you again. The next time you pick a fight with me over anything less than life or death, I’ll—”
    “Ah, Mr. Grim,” someone said icily from the doorway.
    Henry gulped. “Sir?”
    Lord Havelock glowered at Henry, somehow even more intimidating with the absence of his master’s gown and tweeds. “Perhaps you are not aware of how to behave in such polite company, so let me enlighten you.” Lord Havelock glared at Henry with his signature Havelook of Doom. “Come with me.”
    Henry stared at his head of year in horror. It was just his luck to get into trouble with a teacher during the winter holiday.
    “Yes, sir,” Henry whispered.
    Lord Havelock pushed past Henry, disappearing down the dark thin staircase. Henry, with a backward glance at the broadly grinning Valmont, followed.
    Lord Havelock whirled on Henry at the bottom of the stairs, his dark eyes hard and glittering. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”
    Henry flinched at Lord Havelock’s closeness—at the graying stubble on Lord Havelock’s sunken cheeks, the stench of moldering tobacco that seemed to come from his pores.
    “I wasn’t the one pushing people down staircases,” Henry said, his voice cracking nervously.
    “In here,” Lord Havelock said, grabbing a fistful of Henry’s shirtfront and dragging him into an alcove that led to the servants’ quarters below stairs. “Now explain yourself.”
    “Explain what?” Henry asked, puzzled. “Am I wrong in supposing that you wish to attend Knightley Academy, Mr. Grim?”
    “No, sir.”
    “And am I wrong in supposing that you are aware that