Page 10 of The Royal Princess

"More than any other in the palace," she admitted, her fingers grazing the spines of books as if greeting old friends. "Each story is a portal to another world, a life I could have lived."

A mischievous glint sparked in Bernard's eye as he plucked a volume from the shelf, his finger tracing the embossed title. "Love's Tender Triumph... This one sounds intriguing."

Eloise laughed, a musical sound that echoed gently off the high ceilings. "It's a favorite of mine," she confessed. "The hero is dashing but terribly flawed."

"Flawed, you say?" Bernard quipped, his humor shining through. "Perhaps I should take notes."

"Perhaps you should," she teased back, the warmth in her cheeks betraying her delight.

Bernard tucked the novel under his arm, a gesture that spoke of intentions to understand her world even more deeply. And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, they stepped closer to each other, their laughter subsiding into a charged stillness. Eloise's breath caught as Bernard leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was at once tentative and bold.

They parted, breathless, the taste of possibility lingering between them. Bernard's eyes held hers, and in them, she saw not just the man who had stumbled with a Frisbee in the park, but someone who might stumble alongside her through life and love.

"Goodnight, Eloise," he murmured, heading for the door with her book still tucked under his arm.

"Goodnight, Bernard," she replied.

With one last glance, Bernard exited the library, leaving Eloise amidst her stories, a smile curving her lips as she touched her fingers to where his lips had been, the memory of their first kiss still lingering there.

Chapter Five

Eloise lay tangled amidst her silk sheets. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to take in the familiar grandeur of her bedroom, but her mind lingered on the dreams that had enthralled her throughout the night.

In the twilight realm of sleep, she had found herself strolling through the palace’s moonlit gardens with Bernard. The air had been fragrant with blooming jasmine, their laughter mingling. His touch had ignited flames along her skin as he'd drawn her into an ardent embrace, pressing her against the ancient oak tree in the center of the garden.

His lips, urgent and unyielding, had explored hers with a fervency that surprised them both. With each dream kiss, the world around them seemed to dissolve until there was nothing but the heat of his body against hers, the softness of the grass at her back, and the night sky bearing witness to their fervor. As the intensity of their union peaked, she'd awoken, breathless and ensnared by the lingering echoes of passion.

Eloise shook off the remnants of the dream, a rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. She dressed with care, choosing an ensemble that hinted at her noble status while striving for an effortless grace. Her heart performed a nervous pirouette as she descended the grand staircase to join the morning's assembly for breakfast.

The vast dining hall, usually abuzz with the chatter of her family, guests, and the clinking of fine china, was quiet. Bernard had already taken his place at the long table, his posture the epitome of regal poise. He glanced up as she entered, his eyes lighting up with the spark that she now knew could kindle a wildfire within her.

"Good morning, Eloise," he greeted. There was a playful lilt that made his formal address feel intimate.

"Morning, Bernard," she managed, her voice betraying a hint of shyness. The memory of their kiss—a moment stolen in the quiet of her library—wove itself around her senses.

She took the seat opposite him, noting how the morning light caught the golden flecks in his eyes. There was an elephant in the room—or rather, a dreamy tryst under the oaks—and it danced between them, teasing and elusive.

"Sleep well?" Bernard inquired, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips as if he possessed insight into her dreams.

"Quite," Eloise replied, feigning nonchalance while her heart raced with the secrets of the night. She reached for the teapot, pouring the steaming liquid with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.

They exchanged glances, humor flickering in his gaze—a silent acknowledgment of the delicate dance they had begun, each step drawing them closer in a waltz of whispers and yearning. As they embarked on the day's adventures, the promise of shared popcorn and cinematic escapades awaited, though it remained unspoken, suspended in the charged air like a pending verse in a love sonnet, eager to be penned.

The clink of fine porcelain and the soft rustle of linen whispered through the air as Eloise delicately sliced into her grapefruit, its citrus scent a refreshing balm to her senses. Across the table, Bernard watched her with an attentiveness that sent a warm thrill down her spine.

"Would you care for a movie later?" he ventured, his voice smooth.

Eloise's heart skipped a beat, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Do you mean here, in the palace theater?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. She’d never been to a real theater, and the idea intrigued her.

Bernard leaned forward, his elbows on the table, breaking royal protocol in a manner that was both endearing and slightly rebellious. "No," he said, "I thought we might venture into the city. Experience the full theater experience—popcorn, soda, and all the trimmings of a commoner's night out."

The thought of sitting amongst the city folk, sharing in their laughter and their gasps, was unexpectedly exhilarating. The idea of anonymity, if only for a few hours, made her pulse quicken in anticipation.

"Popcorn and soda," Eloise mused aloud, as if tasting the words. "How very... normal."

"Exactly," Bernard replied with a triumphant grin, as if he had scored a point in a game of royal chess.

The prospect was inviting—tempting, even. It was a chance to step outside the gilded cage, to be someone else or perhaps, to be herself without the weighty crown of expectation. The humor in the situation was not lost on her; a princess yearning for popcorn over petit fours, for soda instead of champagne.

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