“Time will tell,” I say, which seems to satisfy Tommaso.
He bows his head and leaves me to my thoughts.
I sit at my desk and stare at the papers before me. Then I pull out my binder on Princess Astrid and flip through the photographs. In every single image, she’s smiling that same genuine smile she just gave me. She’s not an actor. She’s warm and unguarded and utterly herself.
Can I spend the rest of my life with someone like that?Someone full of excitement and optimism, whose behavior is anything but predictable? Someone so very different from myself?
I know she’s objectively beautiful. And when I look at her, I feel a certain attraction to her. I’m less a prince and more a man.
But those feelings can only go so far. Everyone knows attraction can be fleeting.
Could we be compatible? Could we make a life together? A real life, one filled with children, and duty, and possibly even… love?
I snap the folder shut. I’m letting my thoughts run away with me.
This is a business decision to benefit our respective countries. Nothing more.
I’d do well to remember that.
Chapter Four
Astrid
My lady’smaid crosses her arms and shakes her head at me as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “How did you get so many paw prints on one dress?” she asks, gesturing at the front of my outfit.
I shrug. “Labradors.”
Anya throws me a knowing smile. She’s well aware that I absolutely adore all animals, and dogs most of all. Golden retrievers have long been my all-time favorite, followed closely by Labradors. Papa says it’s because I’m a goldenretriever myself: always happy and excited about life. I don’t mind. Golden retrievers are joyful creatures, and I’d be proud to be counted among their ranks.
“We’ve got that pale yellow dress you could wear.” Anya’s voice is muffled as she rummages through my suitcases. “Or this pink one.” She holds up two dresses for inspection.
“Definitely the yellow one. I feel like a marshmallow in the pink, and not in a good way.” I peel off my dress and discard it on the very large, very grand bed.
She shoots me a quizzical look. “What’s a good way to feel like a marshmallow, exactly?”
“You know, the fun kind. All gooey and soft and sweet”
She gives me an indulgent smile.
I toy with the material of my dress. “So, I saw him.”
“Who?” she asks absentmindedly as she begins unbuttoning the yellow dress.
“Who do youthink? The Dalai Lama? Prince Frederic, of course.”
That gets her attention. “And?”
“And he’s exactly the way he was last time, only maybe a little more judgmental.”
She pulls her brows together. “Judgmental how?”
“Well, I’d sort of got loston purpose, found the palace dogs, set them free, and together we wandered into a glasshouse where we sat on the floor and played.”
“Astrid,” she scolds, sounding just like Mama.
Anya may be the same age as me, but she’s a great deal more mature in pretty much every way that counts, as she loves to point out any chance she gets. I don’t begrudge her because it’s completely true.
“They were just so lovely and I’m so excited to knowthat I’m going to live in a palace with an entire pack of Labs. You know how much I love animals.”
