*Rapunzel*
The meal passes in a tumble of conversation… with an older gentleman to my left, with Montrose to my right, then back to the man on my left.
When they aren’t speaking, I keep stealing glances at my fiancé. He appears dispassionate, as if one could never read his feelings in his face. Yet I think I’ve glimpsed a vulnerability. It makes me wild to talk at great length, and see if I can tease it out again.
Montrose’s face is harsh in repose. But when his eyes meet mine, the ferocity in them disappears. I don’t know what’s there, but it feels untamed and new. No one has ever looked at me that way.
Of course, he’s not truly looking at plain Rapunzel, who plays the cello. He’s seeing Rapunzel dressed up as Layla.
The Alpha prince moves his leg, and his thigh brushes up against mi
