She looks into my eyes for a beat, and that urge to kiss her slams me, full force.
What is it about this woman that draws me in? Yes, she’s beautiful. She’s smart and witty. And her body in that outfit? Let’s just say she deserves a round of applause.
But this level of attraction is beyond anything I’ve felt before, particularly for someone I don’t evenlike.
I’ve got no clue how to handle it.
“Does it bother you?” she asks.
“Does what bother me?” I reply, my mind blank. This woman is scrambling my brain, making it hard to think straight.
What were we talking about?
“That you'll never be king.”
That's right.
“No. No, it doesn’t. Not in the least.”
I need to break this spell. Remove myself from the danger zone.
In one brisk move, I step back and collect my things. “I’m sorry, but I've remembered I have an appointment, and I'm going to be late if I don’t leave now.”
She slots the arrow back into the quiver. “I'll come with you.”
Notthe plan.
“It’s personal. The…dentist,” I say as I back away from her like a coward. “I’d prefer you not to document that.”
“Of course,” she replies, her face looking confused. “Thank you for the archery lesson.”
“Anytime,” I reply without looking at her.
“I’ll see you this evening at the state dinner?”
The dinner. Right.
“Yes, of course. I’ll see you then. I throw her a brief smile before I turn on my heel and stride away from both her and the conflicted, growing pull she has on me.
Chapter 9
Good people! Your intrepid palace correspondent behind palace lines has just experienced something rather unexpected: Prince Max being genuinely helpful without a single theatrical sigh. Alert the press!
Oh wait, Iamthe press.
This morning's adventure began when our beloved royal rogue performed archery with the kind of skill one would expect from a royal prince, aka an impressive display of athleticism with aRobin Hood vibe.
Catch my video on my socials for all the arrow-focused action.
Then, he asked me to try it. What do you think I said? Of course! My first attempt was... well, if hostile forces were attacking from ground level, I'd have shown them who's boss. The arrow achieved what I can only describe as the world's most pathetic arc, landing a mere meter away at my feet.
But here's where things got interesting. Instead of enjoying my incompetence from a safe distance, Prince Max offered to help. Properly help.
Following his guidance, I drew back, exhaled, and released. The arrow sliced through the air with satisfying purpose and hit the bullseye. A bullseye! On my second attempt.
Which brings me to the real story: your favorite royal rogue may be far more complex than any of us realized. The man who patiently taught me archery, who celebrated my success with genuine enthusiasm isn’t the shallow party prince I've been writing about for years.
The question remains: which version is real?
