Page 9 of The Prince Falls First
She blushed. “No, of course not.”
“It’s okay if you are.”
“I’m not.”
“As you say.”
“I’m not!”
He merely quirked an eyebrow at her and she blushed harder.
“You know there’s nothing wrong with liking someone.”
“I know.”
“Even loving someone.” He thought of Genevieve again but resisted looking.
“I know,” Agnes said softly.
“Perhaps…they don’t like you back?”
She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.
He nodded, understanding. “Men are often fools, as you well know with four older brothers and a father.”
She was silent for a moment, then shifted her stance slightly as she sighed. “The heart is the biggest fool of all.”
“You can choose to focus on someone else, someone who deserves you.” Though he wasn’t sure that he believed his own words. Had he been able to focus on anyone besides Genevieve tonight?
“My mind might, but my heart isn’t ready for that yet.”
As the dance ended, everyone clapped. He watched Genevieve being led off the dance floor.
Yes, the heart was indeed a fool.
As couples took to the floor for the next dance, Ferdinand approached them, his face smiling and his gait carefree. As the second son, he had reason for it. Their father rarely called on him for royal duties, though he was still technically in the Army so had a reason for avoiding them.
Gabriel nodded towards the floor. “You looked happy with your dance partner.”
Ferdie merely smirked. “Jealous?”
“Hardly. I’ve danced plenty tonight myself, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I think you like her,” Agnes teased. “Leticia, wasn’t it?”
Ferdie scoffed and crossed his arms, taking position beside Gabriel to watch the dancers as the next song started. “I don’t like her. I mean, she was a perfectly lovely dancer. But that’s all. There’s nothing between us.”
“Second eldest brother,” Agnes said with a mischievous smile, then paraphrased Shakespeare, “you protest too much.”
Gabriel chuckled.
Ferdie scowled at him. “What are you laughing at?”
“Careful,” Gabriel warned. “We don’t want anyone to think you’re actually upset with me or even Agnes.”
Ferdie schooled his features; he hated the ‘public’ persona as much as they all did. “Wasn’t Father pestering you to get married just before the ball?”
“He’s always ‘pestering’ me, as you put it, about something or other. What of it?”
