"I don't even know how to ride," he responds.
I blink a couple of times. "You don't?"
"Not all of us have been learning those things since we were old enough to walk," he reminds me.
I lean on the side of the table. "Do you want to know how?"
"I've never thought about it." He looks away.
"Nate?"
"All right, I've thought about it," he says. "I wish I knew how to ride."
"I can ask Artie to teach you," I suggest. "He's an excellent rider."
"You're suggesting that a prince teaches me to ride?" He gives me an incredulous look.
"I'm suggesting that I ask my brother to teach you, and I suppose he is a prince, but that's not why he would be teaching you," I muse.
Nate shakes his head.
"Why do I feel like I've suggested something wrong?" I ask.
He lets out a sigh and steps closer. "You haven't suggested something wrong," he assures me. "Sometimes, it's easy to forget that you're a princess, and then there are times like this, when it's impossible not to know."
I swallow hard. "Is it a problem that I'm a princess?"
"No, Evie." He smiles, but it doesn't feel quite right. "It's just..." He trails off.
"Just?" I prompt when it becomes clear that he's not going to continue.
He takes a deep breath. "I know that there could be a limit to our friendship," he says. "What if you marry? Your spouse might not want you spending time here with me, and that would mean the end of this."
"What? Nate, no." I step away from the book and towards him, not really knowing what to do. "Please don't think that I'm going to let that happen. I'm not even thinking of marrying, and even if I did, I wouldn't marry anyone who would make me cut you out of my life." My voice cracks as I say the words, and I want nothing more than to touch him.
He looks at me with pain in his eyes that I don't expect.
Not really knowing what else to do, I step forward and put a hand on his chest, looking up into his eyes and hoping he can see that I mean my words. "I love you, Nate. I'm not going to let anything come between us." The confession comes out far easier than I thought it would, but it feels right to say it out loud.
His whole demeanour softens, and he puts a hand on my arm. "I love you too, Evie. You're my best friend."
The words hurt more than I expect them to, making me realise just how much I want him to mean those words in a completely different way. At least now I know expanding on how I feel isn't a good idea. I should keep it to myself and protect our friendship, because I don't want to lose him again.
Chapter 7
I pick at the croissant sitting on my plate, but don't eat any of it, too focused on the events of last night to do anything as mundane as having breakfast.
"Are you going to eat that?" Veronica asks, looking over the breakfast table at me.
I sigh and push my plate away. "No."
She gives me a shrewd look. "You haven't eaten anything since you got here."
"I'm not hungry," I mumble.
My sister lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair. "Is this about what Mama said at dinner last night?"
"No. Though I don't see how the conversation was my fault when she was the one who brought it up."
