Page 39 of The Prince Falls First
Gaston shrugged. “At least a year. So if you decide to marry that little darling, do plan it so I can be there.”
“We’re far from that.”
Gaston watched Genevieve for a few moments. “I don’t think so.” He gave him a grin, then wandered away to join the larger group.
They’d all done time in various armed services, even Agnes. It was part of the duty of being a royal, and their father had insisted. Gabriel had decided already that his children wouldn’t be forced. He might ‘encourage’ the heir, whoever they were, to join for a time, but he wouldn’t insist on it. This life had enough pressure after all; they didn’t need the added pressure of the military too.
Gabriel stepped forward, directing them gently as the highest social rank there. “Shall we sit down?”
They all sat down on plump pillows atop the large blankets, the couples seated next to each other. Gabriel held Genevieve’s hand as she delicately sat down, the hem of her dress riding up slightly. Agnes sat down between her and Gaston. Gabriel took off his jacket and sat down last, Ferdinand on his other side.
Genevieve narrowed her eyes at him, though her smile stayed in place.
“What?” he asked as he reached for a grape.
“You’re wearing short sleeves.”
He glanced down, then at his brothers, and back to her. “And?”
“I’ve never seen you wear them before.”
“Enjoying the view?” he teased.
“Don’t be silly.” She turned then as Agnes asked her a question, but he could tell she didn’t mind his clothing. He did have muscles he’d worked hard for; why shouldn’t she enjoy them?
The afternoon passed pleasant enough, though it wasn’t fully relaxing. Gaston still brooded occasionally, and Clotilde was clearly trying to insult Genevieve without being obvious about it, but Genevieve handled it with ease.
They took their time eating and drinking wine under the late afternoon sun. Only after dessert and tea did Gabriel stand and hold out a hand to Genevieve. “Shall we take a walk around the ruins? It’s not often we have the run of the place to ourselves.”
“Of course.” Genevieve took his hand, rising quickly and brushing off her dress lightly.
He gave his brothers a glare only they would recognize, one that clearly meant ‘don’t follow’, and he had no doubt he’d be teased about it later.
Slowly, he and Genevieve walked the rough dirt paths, and he tucked her arm in his. “Will you make it to the top in those shoes?”
“Unknown, but not likely I think.”
“Then we’ll take a little detour. Just a bit further. What did you think of my brothers?”
“I think they’re very like you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Do you?”
“Is that so surprising? You look alike, you act alike, you even have the same habits.”
“Like what?”
“I shouldn’t say.”
“Please do.”
She bit her lip for a moment. “Well, you both get same defeated look in your eyes when you’re sad, or when you’re remembering something sad.”
“When was I sad?”
She glanced around but they were quite alone. “When you, er, visited me. I saw the same look on your face that Prince Gaston had.”
“You’re quite astute, did you know that?”
