Chapter Two #2
The butler proudly announced their arrival. ‘His Serene Highness, Prince Magnus Kristiansen III, Sovereign Prince of Thrudheim. And His Serene Highness, Prince Hans Kristiansen.’
The two royals commanded the attention of the entire room with their devastating and impressive presence. However, the eldest prince was even more enthralling because he was an actual giant!
She drank in his impressive physique as if he were a work of art. From shiny black boots to impossibly long and strong legs that came up to narrow hips, a sword hung with silk tassels that made him look like a cavalry man—no, a pirate king! she thought with a wistful sigh.
Up her eyes continued to a large chest and a starched, buttoned-up collar: his shoulders and arms were broad, and the jacket looked…well, tight. But perhaps it just seemed that way because he was so big.
The youngest prince was also tall but had a slimmer build and reddish-blond hair.
Both men were handsome, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the biggest one: his face did strange things to her heart and stomach.
Dark blond hair, so dark in fact it looked almost brown until the candlelight caught the highlights of gold within.
Hooded blue eyes, a straight nose, a chiselled jaw that almost made him look brutish except for the full pillowy lips and a sweet dimple in the centre of his chin.
Arrogant and imposing, his gaze swept the room, momentarily pausing on all of the young ladies as if he were already choosing his dance partners for the night—or perhaps even his bridal choices if Anne’s cousin were to be believed.
His sweeping gaze paused over Anne momentarily, before dropping a foot to inspect Selina’s face.
There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to stop spinning and she drowned in a sapphire sea—and then his eyes dipped lower.
His nostrils flared, and then his eyes darted back up to her face, a slight flush colouring the skin above his collar.
Did he think her bodice scandalous? The cut of her gown was low to be sure, but she’d seen women reveal far more than her in the past. Granted, not many women, but still enough not to worry her about being unseemly.
The proud dimpled chin rose a little higher, and he looked down at her over that sharp nose and disapproving scowl, as if to say You are most definitely off my list!
How had she managed to offend a prince simply by existing?
There was a loud smash and a splash of cold liquid on her ankles that made her jump, followed by a hissed Oh, Selina! from Anne who hopped away from her in horror.
As if in a dream, Selina stared dumbly at the pretty chalked floor, now marred with shards of glass and a puddle of scarlet punch. She took a step back, hoping not to soak her slippers. ‘Oh blast!’ she muttered and then blushed when she heard a few disapproving tuts.
A footman hurried over and began to clear up the mess, and she fussed over offering the servant a napkin so that he didn’t cut his hands. The noise of conversation returned, and Selina lost sight of the two princes as the crowd surged forward to greet them.
Anne gave her a withering glance and then rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, trust you to do something so clumsy, and in front of the princes too!’
Selina cringed. ‘Sorry.’
Would Anne hate her for this? Would she lose all her Society friends and parties because of a clumsy grasp on her drink?
Anne sighed and then glanced down at the hem of Selina’s gown. ‘Let’s go find a place to sit so we can put some water on the stain. It’d be a shame to ruin such a pretty gown.’
Selina nodded, grateful for Anne’s compliment and forgiveness, and then followed her through the crowd.
How was she ever going to live down this latest embarrassment?
And, more to the point, how would she ever recover from the prince of Thrudheim staring at her with those dreamy blue eyes full of censure and disdain?
She had never expected to catch the eye of a prince, would have happily been ignored if truth be told, but to be unfavourably noticed—that was a grim accomplishment indeed.
Usually, she would have wracked her brain trying to think of ways to rectify the situation, especially as Anne had her own hopes for the prince. Selina always hated people to think poorly of her, even more so when her friend’s happiness relied upon her behaving well.
But for some reason, the prince’s stare had frightened her, had stripped her of all her cheerful armour and reminded her of the nervous and confused little girl she’d been years ago, locked away in an empty room until she learned to behave.
She bristled at the unfairness of it all, and for once she didn’t want to make amends or seek his approval.
Why should she apologise for wearing her bust a little low? Or accidentally dropping her own punch? It wasn’t as if she thought herself a potential match for him! She knew he would never consider her, as did everyone else in the room. So why be so arrogant and condescending towards her?
Perhaps the proud prince should loosen his own collar before criticising another person’s choice of dress!