Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.”
“Don’t be. It’s cute in a way.”
“‘It’s cute,’ you say.” I leaned closer to her, and she pushed me to the side, making a face at me.
“Oh, don’t pretend as if you haven’t ever been told that you’re handsome.”
“No, never,” I lied, pleased by the direction of this conversation.
“So you are the ugliest man in Ersovia? No wonder they had to look outside the country for someone to consent to marry you.”
“First, you accuse me of being a playboy, and then you tell me I am ugly.”
“The second part was sarcasm.”
“So, the first part is what you honestly think of me?”
She drank, not answering me.
I did not think I had ever met someone who seemed to want to fight me so much. And I just met her. “You are probably the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”
She scoffed, “I’m just probably the only one who doesn’t treat you like a prince.”
“Yes, what is up with that?” I said with the same accent I had seen in some American movies.
She had already smacked me, pushed me, and insulted me to my face.
“Well, Your Highness,” she said. “Along with your Dalsgaard syndrome, I’m also, as people would say, coldhearted.”
“Do explain.” I shifted to face her more.
She turned as well. “I don’t do love Gale. And for some reason, no matter how rich or famous people are, I simply don’t care. I’ve met rock stars, politicians, Nobel Peace Prize winners, and each time, I have to force myself to be excited or smile for the cameras.”
“I suppose that is a side effect of being the daughter of one of the richest men in the world.”
“Oh no, because Augusta cried the first time she met Beyoncé, like full-on sobbing. Meanwhile, I was like, ‘Hi. Yes, I enjoy your music. Can you pass the dressing?’ It was pitiful. My sister calls me Odette, the Cold-hearted. So it’s not just you, Prince Gale.”
That wasn’t a worst thing for me. It was actually a breath of fresh air compared to the people always around me. However, did that mean she had never been in love?
“What does move you then?” I asked her.
“Nothing.”
“Something must. Your father’s legacy, for example. You said how you do not want to give that up.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Yeah. But that doesn’t really move me. I’m not impressed by it so much as I feel like I need to protect it for my father’s sake. I guess if anything really drew out my emotions, it would be my mom. Maybe good music and food.”
“That is a little pitiful.” I snickered.
“Don’t judge me!”
“Why not? You have been judging me since we met.”
She made a face. And I made one back.
“What happened to being a gentleman?” she had the nerve to ask.
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
“Back on topic,” she said to deflect. “You’ve already got a whole profile on me, and I’m only talking about me. What moves you?”
I pretended to think, looking up to the ceiling for a bit before returning my gaze to her. “Damsels in distress or pretty women in general.” I winked.
“Oh, God.” She groaned. “And you are insulted when I call you a playboy.”
“Yes, because I am more than that.”
“So, you admit it.”
Ugh. This woman. “I have had a life. Is there a crime in that?”
“Nope.” Her tone did not give me much confidence, though. “Well, if you have more depth, then what moves you, Your Highness?”
I rested back against the backboard, placing my glass on the counter. “My family. The people of Ersovia. Good books, poetry.”
“I can’t tease you when you sound sincere,” she said. “So, I’ve told you my reasons. Now, tell me why I shouldn’t go through with marrying you.”
“You do realize my whole goal in coming here was to give you a reason to marry me.”
“Yes, but you promised to be honest, remember?” she shot back.
This time, it was me who glared at her. But she just kept the same expression on her face. “I don’t have any.”
“Liar!”
I laughed and shook my head. “Fine, you’ll be in the press a lot.”
“I’m sort of use to that already. Come on. You can do better than that. Let me have it.” She waved her hands at me.
She had no idea how different her press and royal press were. They were two different beasts.
“Come on, next reason?” She waved me on.
“You’ll need to learn Ersovian.”
She paused, thinking about it and nodded. “That’s not too bad, either. Is your language really hard? Say something for me.”
“You are very bossy. You know that?” I said in Ersovian.
A look of suspicion came over her face. And you would think she understood what I meant. “What did you say?”
“That you look pretty,” I lied.
“Yeah, that was a lie, but I’ll let it go.” She was spot on. “Anyway, learning a third language isn’t that bad.”