Page 33 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
Snow was beginning to pile up on the fancy gold epaulettes of his uniform. His dark hair was dusted with a fine layer of white. He probably looked more like her princely counterpart than he realized.
He came closer—as close as her billowing tulle gown would allow. “I particularly enjoyed sharing them with you, if you must know.”
Gracie melted. Just a little.
Until she realized he’d completely ignored her question about party princesses.
She stated the obvious. “You’re a snob.”
“Perhaps.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Tell me the truth. Did you purposefully mislead me?”
She glared at his ridiculously handsome face. It was honestly amazing what a shave and haircut could do, but that was beside the point. Once a beast, always a beast.
Not according to the fairy tale.
Gracie’s annoyance flared. She’d had enough of this conversation, enough of feeling like a big royal joke, enough of Prince Not-So-Charming. So she spun on her glass-slippered heel and left him in the dust.
What did Belle know, anyway?
“Wait!” Nick called after Gracie, but she didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t turn back. She didn’t even slow her steps. If anything, she picked up her pace as she stormed away from him in a furious blizzard of fluff and sparkle.
The urge to go after her was overwhelming, as if the compulsion to chase down a fleeing princess was something he’d been born with, along with all the other rights and responsibilities of being a prince. He was almost surprised when she didn’t leave one of her glass shoes behind. Nick scanned the surrounding cobblestones for one, just in case.
What are you doing?
He shook his head, as if doing so could jolt some sense back into him. As Gracie had so succinctly put it, he was no Prince Charming. He most definitely didn’t need to be chasing after a woman wearing a pseudo-Cinderella costume.
No matter how badly he wanted to.
He didn’t truly want to, though, did he? That would be crazy. He simply felt bad for upsetting her. Plus, he was being unduly influenced by a fairy tale that had been around for centuries.
The doors to the castle swung open with a groan behind Nick as he peered into the distance for a final glimpse of that ridiculous dress. But snow flurries clouded his vision, and he couldn’t see a thing beyond the crowds of people heading toward the village square for the big event.
“Oh, good. I caught you,” Jaron said just over his shoulder. “It seems there’s been a mistake…”
Nick turned around. “You think?”
“So you’ve figured out that whoever you met earlier today isn’t really Princess Alana?” Jaron looked around, as if searching for a royal imposter.
“It was rather obvious when she showed up in costume,” Nick said.
“In costume?” Jaron’s face went blank. Then his eyes went wide. “No!”
“Yes,” Nick said with a sigh.
“It was Princess Snowflake?” Jaron’s body shook with silent laughter.
“I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny.” Gracie sure hadn’t, but that was undoubtedly Nick’s fault. “And can you please call her by her proper name instead of that silly stage name?”
“Absolutely.” Jaron nodded, and a quiet laugh escaped him. He cleared his throat and seemed to do his best to regain his composure. “May I ask where Miss Clark is now?”
“She left. It seems she wasn’t any happier about the misunderstanding than I was.” Nick tugged at the collar of his uniform. The regalia felt stifling all of a sudden.
Jaron studied him for a beat. “That’s certainly an interesting development. Are you…disappointed?”
“Not in the slightest,” Nick lied. “It’s for the best.”
