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Summary
Over the years, Mike’s heard plenty of stories about the prince’s aloof and prissy nature. Looking at him now, Mike can see where some of that comes from, especially in the way he’s dressed.
Despite the warm air blowing in, making the room feel thick and syrupy, William’s wearing a tight doublet. It pulls in at the waist and is covered in restrictive laces running up the back and down the sides. Only a slim band of his pale throat is left uncovered, along with his hands and his face.
But it’s that face, the soft curve of the bow of his lips, the crinkling at the corners of his eyes, that throws Mike completely because nothing about it is aloof. It stands at odds with the stiff, constricting clothing and the rumours he’s heard. Mike startles when the prince’s gaze finds him, his smile widening in greeting, perfect white teeth on display, the front two slightly more pronounced, lending him a disarming sweetness.
Instinctively, Mike takes a step forward.
The sudden scrape of metal snaps him out of it. The guards raise their swords in a cross before him, blocking his path.
Rightfully so. It doesn’t matter if the prince is pretty, Mike has to stay focused. His sister’s life might depend on it.