“That was fast,” he says.
I curtsy. “Your Highness.”
He is before me in an instant, taking my hand in his and pulling me up straight. I remember his hand in mine from this morning, and my heart speeds up once more.
“You don’t have to do all that when we’re alone,” he says, his grin widening. “And I’d really prefer if you called me Fritz.”
There’s that flutter again.Why does my body betray me so?“I don’t think I should.”
“Of course you should. I’m asking you to.” His eyes sparkle, and I think I might get lost in them.
“We’ll see.” I have to get out of this very personal space or I’m going to do something crazy, like kiss him. I go stand by the huge window, taking time to compose myself before I let myself be unwittingly drawn in by this man and all his charm.
“Coffee is on its way,” the prince says, coming to stand next to me. “I didn’t expect you so quickly.”
“I was already halfway here.” He’s standing close again, and the scent of his cologne is going to my head. Woody and smokey, but subtle and alluring and doing nothing to mitigate the excitement currently coursing through me.
“Coming to visit, were you?”
A smile ticks at the corners of my mouth. “No, I was going to slum it with the other plebs in the dining car.”
He barks out a laugh. “Beautiful and funny. You are something, Nanny Sumner.”
I turn to him, confidence rising a little as his easy manner works its magic on my nerves. “Just something?”
He raises his hand a bit, but drops it quickly, clenched in a fist. “Yeah. I’m just not sure whatyet.”
A metallic rattle snaps our attention. A butler enters with a silver pushcart carrying various snacks and a metal carafe.
“Shall we?” Prince Friedrich gestures to the chairs behind us.
The butler begins to set out our spread after we sit, taking delicate china cups from beneath a white cloth and pouring coffee for the two of us. He drops two lumps of sugar in one cup, giving it a gentle stir before handing it to the prince. He then turns to me.
“Just cream, please,” I say, watching as he pours and nodding when the color is right.
He hands my cup to me and arranges a tray with pitchers of milk and cream and a sugar bowl so we can serve ourselves for the next cup. A tiered display of digestive biscuits, scones, cheese, and fruit sit next to the carafe of coffee.
“Will that be all, Your Highness?” the butler asks with a thick Eastern European accent.
“Yes, thank you, Yakiv,” the prince replies.
Yakiv bows and gives the prince a small smile, leaving the way he came. The door snicks shut behind him, and I’m very aware that we are alone.
The countryside flies by us in shades of green, lakes dot the landscape, and sheep graze in sloping fields. We sit in silence for a bit as we sip our coffee, but rather than feeling awkward, it feels good, like we could be comfortable together in any situation. But my mind is still running in circles, and I can’t deny that I want to talk to him, to get to know this man that has me sodistracted. Who is so far above me yet continues to seek me out.
The longer we sit without talking, just him and me and no expectations or pressure, the more I think Rebecca might be right about him. Something about him feels safe. “I just want to apologize again for the way I acted last night,” I finally get up the nerve to say.
“Please, you don’t have to. There’s nothing to forgive.”
I face him. “No, but I think I should at least explain.”
He turns toward me, too. His piercing blue eyes seem to see my soul, and maybe I don’t need to explain fully, but some is needed.
I clear my suddenly dry throat, trying not to get lost in that unknowable aura that surrounds him. “I, um, I don’t have much experience with men taking an interest in me, friendly or otherwise. And what I do have is mostly negative. So, when you said you wanted to show me a good time and your voice got all husky and dreamy, it set off alarm bells in my head.”
Prince Friedrich blinks a few times, his mouth slightly open. “I-I…” He shakes his head and blinks again. “I am so sorry.” He takes my empty hand in his. “I didn’t know. I honestly was just being flirty. I apologize for making you feel unsafe. It’s the very last thing I want.”
“No. It’s absolutely not your fault. It’s my own messed up head.” His eyes drop to my lip where I chewthe corner, a nervous habit my mother used to chastise me for.
