Page 56 of The Cinderella Prince

“Wasn’t she forced to marry you?” Tristan whispered, appalled.

“She never protested,” I whispered back. Poor girl had never thought she had a choice. Almost like me.

“That is all very well and fine, but howwill we explain a prince running away with a common chef to New York?” Alexander demanded.

“How dare you?” I snapped. “Tristan is so much more than that. Do you hear me? He is the finest, noblest person I have ever met, and youwillshow some respect.”

Alexander turned to me impatiently as stillness settled in the room. “That may be so, but he is still an unknown man who shares an apartment with four men and does odd jobs when he needs to. Even if you do not marry Élodie as had been agreed, you are going to destroy this family’s reputation by sweeping floors and living with drag queens. And I willnotallow that.”

“My, you’ve done your homework,” Tristan said in a peculiar tone. “Maybe it’ll make your family more relatable if people see you’re capable of washing dishes and sweeping floors.”

“Thank you, but we do not need input on how we manage our image,” Alexander squeezed through his teeth.

“But he’s right,” Sophie said. “We don’t need to explain it. Let Cedric go. Let him be in New York. He would hardly be the first royal to relocate away from the palace. He can continue his studies in the States or focus on research.”

“He can spend his days in museums like he always wanted,” Max said. He looked at me with those grey-blue eyes, and an old spark of kinship returned to him.

“If he dates Tristan, that is entirely his choice,” Sophie said. “And we can supply plenty of reasons for his prolonged visits.”

“He can attend everything that is important when he is invited,” Max added. He looked at Élodie, and I knew whatimportant event he had in mind. I noticed that they held hands.

Alexander took a step back, shaking his head. His gaze crossed the entire room, taking each face in carefully. “It would appear that you have all made up your minds.”

My older brother was not someone I felt an obligation to reassure that things could continue smoothly. Even so, I had a word of warning for him. “The only problems that I can foresee are those that you create, brother.”

“Oh, I am afraid that you have very little foresight, Cedric,” he said calmly as he straightened, his hands resting on the small of his back, his gaze downcast. “I will not create problems for you. Problems, you’ll learn, have a tendency to create themselves no matter what we do. More so when we are careless.” He directed his gaze at me as a warning. After nodding once, he did that stage trick where it appeared like he was looking into everyone’s eyes at once. “It seems there is nothing I can say to dissuade any of you from making avoidable mistakes.” He sighed, straightened his suit jacket, and marched out of the room.

The sun had waned and left the sky, leaving only the afterlight of a day gone by. The door shut, and a collective sigh of relief seemed to occur at once. By instinct, I turned to Tristan. I held his hand just the same, but now I looked into those chocolate eyes. “Do you really love me?” I asked. “After all I said.”

“Yes,” he said, a smile barely contained to his face. “I love you. After what you said and because of what you said.”

I raised my eyebrows.

But Tristan frowned and released my hands. He restedhis hands on my chest and looked into my eyes. “Don’t ever be the hero like that,” he said. It would have been a grave warning had he not grinned so freely. “Silly sacrifices are my job.”

“I’ll never do anything so stupid again,” I promised.

“And do you know what?” Tristan smiled as he rose to the tips of his toes and leveled our gazes. “Neither will I from now on.”

Our bodies melted into one another as our arms wrapped around each other’s torso. As I leaned in and pressed my heated lips against his, life returned to the darkest corners of my tired soul. He healed me. He saved me.

I kissed him softly, then harder, holding him with all I had. I hugged him so close that neither of us could inhale a real breath of air. I loved him. I loved him so much that the intensity of my emotions would have terrified me had it been anything other than love.

“Hey, boys,” Sophie said.

Tristan pulled away from me first, licking his lips and blushing. His eyes were glassy and glimmering when he blinked. He cleared his throat and lowered himself to his feet.

I looked at Sophie, who seemed relieved like everyone else. Behind her, Max and Élodie held each other’s hands, but their impatience was clear because they practically trembled with the desire to kiss.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but we should go somewhere cozier,” Sophie said. “There’s a lot to celebrate.”

I looked at Tristan. “What do you think? Should we celebrate?”

“I’m never one to miss a party,” he said softly, his pupils so big and black that they pulled me in.

I turned back to Sophie. “You heard him. Lead the way, sis.”

And she did. Gesturing at the door, Sophia led all of us out of the yellow sitting room, down the hallways of the palace, where Tristan stopped every so often to look at portraits and other landscapes of Verdumont’s most famous artists. Busts lined one hallway, and Tristan paused a few times, pointing at some that resembled me. “It seems you have a very Valois Montclair face,” he observed cheekily. “I love it.”

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