So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,41
my girl until lunch.”
Charles cocked his head slightly, tempted to ask where her attendant had gone.
“Come on, get inside. The sun isn’t getting any younger, and neither am I.”
With a smile, the prince obediently entered the carriage and signaled for the driver to take off.
As the coach lurched to a start, his aunt grabbed the side of her seat and snapped her fan closed. “Tell me, was it your idea to fetch me in this gourd of a coach, or your father’s?”
“Mine, Aunt Genevieve. I thought we might see more of the city if we weren’t recognized. If you are uncomfortable, we can change to a different coach.”
“No.” To Charles’s surprise, his aunt doffed her tiara, tossing it aside. “Always scratches my head, anyway. Besides, if you’re going to be dressed like a commoner, I am certainly not going around looking like a duchess.”
Charles leaned back, hiding a smile. No wonder he’d always liked his aunt.
“Look at you, my boy.” Genevieve patted his shoulders. “Such a strapping young man. You must have gotten your good looks from your mother. Heavens knows they weren’t from George.”
The prince laughed in spite of himself. “I’ve missed you, Aunt Genevieve.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” The angles of her face softened as she considered her nephew. She inhaled. “Funny, I left the palace because I didn’t want to live life strung up like a puppet, and now that I’m back I lament not visiting more. I’ve missed too many years with my favorite nephew—”
“Last I recall, Aunt, I am your only nephew.”
The duchess crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. “Much as I am fond of you, Charles, this tardiness is rather unbecoming of the future king.” She raised her hand before he could explain. “I’ve heard from palace gossip that you’re in a lovelorn state. Lovesickness is no excuse for discourtesy, do you understand?”
“Yes, Aunt Genevieve. I’m sorry. Truly. It’s just that . . . I feel lost. Like I’ve met the one person who’s meant for me, and she’s vanished.”
At his confession, she softened further, her features melting into a smile that rounded out her cheeks and reminded him faintly of his father.
“What’s so special about this girl?” she asked, leaning slightly forward, her eyes taking on a mischievous sparkle. “Inquiring minds wish to know—tell me about her, Charles. You could have the hand of any lady in the kingdom, any lady in the world, even. Why are you so set on this one? Rather rude of her to take off so suddenly!”
Charles hesitated, surprised by how relieved he was by his aunt’s questioning. He hadn’t talked about her to anyone—not about his feelings, anyway. Maybe this was what he needed to help sort out his thoughts. To get out of the haze that had clouded his mind ever since the ball.
“Any other girl would only want to marry me to become a princess,” he replied finally. “She . . . she didn’t even know I was the prince.”
At that, Genevieve wrinkled her nose. “Plenty of ladies pretend to be ignorant, Charles. It’s a coy game that they play—”
“Not her,” Charles insisted. “Not her.” He tugged at one of the buttons sewn onto the tufted cushion against his back. “There was something so sincere about her, so kind. I didn’t even get her name. I’m beginning to worry that she was nothing more than a dream.”
“Dreams don’t leave behind glass slippers,” said Genevieve sensibly. “For that matter, who would think to wear glass shoes, let alone to a ball?”
“I told you,” said the prince, “she’s different.”
His aunt sighed. “You are hopeless, Charles. I see there’s no talking you out of this, so let’s talk about something else. I take it your studies went well.”
“Well enough,” he replied absentmindedly. “I did find it refreshing to study philosophy, history, and diplomacy instead of protocol or dancing.”
While his aunt chattered on about how her husband, Arthur, had been a lecturer once at the Royal University, Charles gazed out the window. On his way home a week ago, he’d marveled at how little his hometown had changed. The oak trees, the wide pastures skirting the countryside, the rows of brick houses and the estates inhabited by the minor nobles, the winding road to the palace. Yet how different they seemed.
He couldn’t place his finger on it, but he saw more now. He noticed the people as well as the land. Surely, what he had learned during his university courses had trained his mind to be that