Page 21 of The Cinderella Prince

“Back where?” I asked. I just realized I still didn’t know where he was from.

Cedric’s eyes glimmered a little. The muscles in his face knotted with tension, and tears glistened in his eyes. “The palace of Verdumont, of course.”

“The p…What? Why would they take you to a palace?” I stammered. “Cedric, who is your family?” If worry had filled my stomach earlier, now it only contained a big block of ice. Shivers ran down my arms as I held the bar with both hands. “Who are you?”

Cedric sucked his teeth. “I’m sorry, Tristan,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have lied, but you have to believe me that it felt so good to be no one.” He must have picked up the horrified expression on my face because he straightened in the next moment, all the rich and cultured posture I’d seen in him in glimpses pouring into that sculpted body and perfect face. “I’m Prince Cedric Philippe Valois Montclair, Duke of Belleval, son of His Royal Majesty Ferdinand Valois Montclair, the King of Verdumont.”

It couldn’t have been the beer that blurred my vision and made me see double. The black vignette around my field of vision reminded me that I needed to breathe. I had been so scared, thinking his family were terrorists of somekind. As I inhaled and my vision cleared, I barked a laugh. “Okay, um, and I’m the Prince of Wales. How do you do?”

This time, his lips absolutely twitched into a smile. “Seriously?” he asked, entertained, surprised, perhaps a little outraged. “You don’t believe me?”

“Erm…what is Verdumont?” I asked. If he was willing to pull my leg this hard, it couldn’t all be so serious. I had, perhaps, heard it mentioned in school. Or maybe I was imagining it.

Cedric took a step back, head tilted. “Do you know what France is?” he asked.

I show him a narrow-eyed look. “Yes. Obviously.”

“And Germany?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”

“And Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium?” he asked as if speaking to a child.

I pouted. “Yes. Yes, I do.” Maybe I couldn’t tell the difference between those if you gave me a map, but I’d heard of them. “What’s with the inquisition?”

Cedric crossed his arms on his chest, reminding me of his sexy biceps at a pretty inconvenient time. “Do you have your phone with you? I see that we need to cover your geography lessons if you mean to continue offering your services to me. And mind, I am what I just told you I was.”

I laughed again. Right. The Duke of Mars. I grabbed my phone and handed it to him. “Don’t they have smartphones in what-do-you-call-it?”

“They have very sophisticated tracking software in Verdumont since it’s in the heart of Europe. And I can’t use my phone if I don’t want to be found sooner rather than later.” He spoke in a harsh whisper, sarcasm spilling over.He typed something and returned my phone to me. “There. Verdumont.”

It was a Wikipedia article about a country sandwiched between France and Germany, stretching around Luxembourg, bordering Belgium, and reaching as far up as the Netherlands. When I skimmed the top paragraph, his information seemed to be up to date. This place had a king and a queen, and the stern-faced man’s name really was Ferdinand something and something. When I opened the list of royals, my heart skipped a beat and then sank all the way through my stomach and into hell’s pits of doom.Cedric Philippe Valois Montclair. The portrait was dated two years ago, but those piercing blue eyes and that floppy blond hair were unmistakable. His defined jaw and high cheekbones, his straight nose, his full lips. Here, he wore a high-collared crimson jacket with decorative buttons, a white sash draped from his left shoulder to his right hip, a black belt around his narrow waist, and black pants with a gold stripe down the side. Polished black leather boots reached high and seemed to fit him perfectly, not to mention that they made him ever so slightly hotter when he was already a million degrees hot and causing me to sweat. “You…have a Wikipedia page,” I said, my mouth dry, my body numb with shock.

I blinked several times before lifting my gaze off the phone and finding Cedric’s surprised frown framing his gorgeous eyes. “That’swhat impressed you?”

“Um…” I put my phone on the bar and grabbed my beer, lifting one finger to signal for him to wait until I’d had a few more sips. When I put the glass back and exhaled, I stared at him. “That can’t be right. You can’t be a…a prince.”

“Why?” Cedric asked.

Because I can’t be the person who has a crush on a goddamn prince, I screamed internally.

“To be honest, Tristan, you’re not taking this the way I imagined,” Cedric said.

“H-how did you imagine I would take it?” I asked, my voice so thin and distant it might have belonged to someone else.

Cedric shrugged. “Mainly, I imagined you’d run the hell away and curse me until the end of days. Or to call my brother and tell him where he could find me.” He hesitated, but there was more. Biting his lip, he shrugged one more time, but it was a what-the-hell shrug. “Or to bow and scrape like some medieval commoner. I hate that.”

“I don’t bow,” I said. That was only half-true. But I wouldn’t bow to him for being born to a royal family, that was for sure. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just really shocked.”

“I can see that,” Cedric said. He laughed a little. Then, he laughed a little more. When he saw my bewildered expression, he shook his head and leaned a little closer. “I wasn’t going to tell you. Ever. But I gotta say, it’s such a relief to share the truth with you.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised.

“Thank you,” Cedric said and lifted a glass in need of polishing. He got busy. “My problems remain the same, Tristan. My family is looking for me. I’m half-certain they know where to find me.” He glanced out the window. “I feel…watched. Sometimes. Except, when I turn, there’s no one there.”

I looked at the window, too, but it was too dark outside to see anything except our own reflections. So I looked at His Royal Highness instead. He had the face for the job, that was certain. How it took my breath away… “What’s your airline, Cedric?” I asked.

He shot me a sad smile, the saddest I had ever seen. And I was the king of sad smiles. “Marchioness Élodie de Beaumont. I am to be engaged to her this fall. A political and traditional alliance, if you know what I mean.”

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