Page 55 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

“Is that a good thing?”

“A very good thing. They walked into that room having already decided who you were and what was important to you. You never gave them the chance to stick you in a single, small box. You showed them something different, someone wonderful.”

That was a bit much. She put her free hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head yesterday and I didn’t notice?”

He took her hand off his face and kissed the palm. “I’ve never felt better.” He jiggled his shoulders a bit. “Though that cut is itchy.”

“I’ll take a look at it at the hospital.” She poked his arm. “Stop avoiding my questions. What’s up with all the ridiculous compliments?”

He studied her for a moment. “They’re not ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes. “Zar, how would it make you feel if I told you that you were the world’s most amazing prince? That your bows and handshakes were perfectly performed?”

“What?”

“Silly, right? To be complimented for doing a good job at things you’ve been trained to do for years.”

“Anna, surgery and shaking hands aren’t even on the same plane of existence.”

“Compliments too often repeated lose their value.”

“How does anyone compliment you, then, for a job well done?”

“Ask me to keep doing the job, or teach the job to others. There’s no better praise than that.”

“I don’t think it’s the same for everyone. I think different people want to be shown they’re valued in different ways.”

“True.” Maybe she’d made a few assumptions, too. But she couldn’t go back and change things now, and probably wouldn’t anyway if she had the chance. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

Zar grinned. “Keep saying that to yourself when you go dress shopping.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I have to get a ball gown.”

“Personally, I can’t wait. You’re going to look beautiful in it.”

“How do you know that? I might look silly or ridiculous.”

The look he gave her started a fire in her belly. “Anna, it doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re beautiful.”

“You need to get your vision checked.”

“Every year, and it’s just fine.”

They left the castle, and Zar took her along a covered walkway to a large garage. There were at least a dozen cars of different types. Zar led her to a small, sporty vehicle in a soft blue color and opened her door for her.

She slid in and admired the leather interior while Zar rounded the vehicle and got into the driver’s side.

“Nice car.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorite cars in the fleet for when I want to drive in the country and not cause a stir.”

“Other vehicles cause a stir?”

“Official vehicles have a special license plate designating them for the royal family. This one does not. It’s owned by the transportation department of the Lerasian government. No one expects me to be in it.”

He started the car and pulled out of the garage. The castle shone in the sunlight like a fairy-tale. The grounds were beautiful, with flowers and trees and small gardens all along the narrow road that took them away from the castle and down into the valley where Cime, the capitol of Lerasia, lay.

Most of the buildings were made of stone and looked to have been built hundreds of years ago. Newer structures made of steel, wood, and glass didn’t take away from the sense of age of the city.

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