Read Online All That Glows by Ryan Graudin - Free Book Online Page A

people. I feel their stares on me, relentless. Every woman at the bar is picking me apart: each orange strand of hair, my oval face, my flowy turquoise dress. The attention is petrifying. I try not to think of how many people are looking at me. How many possible ways this appearance could get back to Breena or the others.
    I want to pull my hand away, to sever the connection between us, but I can’t. Richard’s fingers are an anchor, the only thing to keep me going straight in this collection of machinery and tight bodies. As soon as we walked through the door, the sickness lurched back into a vengeful status—the same as it had during my first day in London. It’s all I can do not to double over onto the pub’s beer-stained floor. All of my energy, my entire concentration goes into following the steady tug of the prince’s hand.
    We go all the way to the back, where Edmund and several other guys sit at one of the few round tables. A few of the boys I recognize from the polo team. There’s the lad with the corkscrew brown curls and an extra lump on the bridge of his nose. And the redhead whose chin is so square it looks like you could whet a blade on it. I’ve never seen the other two boys before—but Richard knows them well enough. They leap up before he reaches the table, clapping hands and bumping chests with primal grunts.
    Edmund stays in his chair, jaw tilted back in the most casual of greetings. It isn’t until his shined brown eyes fall on me that he comes to life.
    “Damn, Rich. When you said you were bringing a friend, I thought . . .” He doesn’t bother finishing his sentence. I hate the way he’s looking at me, all slow and squinty, like he wants nothing more than to get his fingers on the zipper of my dress. “What runway did you get her off of? And where can I get one?”
    Britain’s heir is a mess of emotions: his aura flickers between the relief of having my existence confirmed and a sudden bristling at his friend. Richard stiffens, shifting his body ever so slightly to come between me and Edmund. “Her name is Emrys. And you should treat her with a bit of respect.”
    “Woah, mate, take it easy. I’m just playing around.” Edmund winks it off, like it’s all a big joke. But the leer in his eyes—fed by the three drained pint glasses at his elbow and an ego the size of London Bridge—says otherwise.
    He stands, balancing his weight on the table, and makes his way over to me. His hand is a dead thing, all cool and clammy as he picks up mine. There’s no spark or zap of nerves at his touch. Only an intense desire to pull away. “A pleasure to meet you, Emrys. I’m Edmund Williams the fifth.”
    I snatch my hand from his just before he can bring it to his lips. “Likewise, Edmund Williams the fifth.”
    The corner of Edmund’s mouth twitches up. Annoyance I think, from the soured curdle of his aura. Disguised as impishness.
    “Another round then,” he says, and returns to his seat. “You’re late, Rich. Had to get started without you.”
    I’m not the only female at the table. Corkscrew Curls has his arm around a girl with pin-straight, mousy hair cut in a rather severe bob. A wispy blonde sits evenly between Edmund and the ginger-haired polo player. Her chunky black eyeliner becomes almost a solid blob as she peers in my direction.
    I try a faint smile at both of them as I take a seat on the far side of the table. Only Mousy Hair’s lips flicker in response. Eyeliner turns her attentions to Edmund, nudging in close to his shoulder and saying something I can’t hear over the muffled roar of the pub’s other patrons and the music that’s starting to pump through the sound system’s speakers.
    Pain starts its inevitable rise. In my stomach. Everywhere. My teeth grind together like millstones.
    When Edmund doesn’t respond, Eyeliner aims her focus across the table, where Richard is sliding into the seat next to mine. “You were so good at the match today. So . . . fast.”