Chance Darling was one of these good-looking fellows. He was the Prince of Clevaunt, grandson of King Midas, and most girls considered him to be the hottest thing since two-wheel-drive carriages. To put it in its plainest terms, he was a charmer, a ladies’ man, and a perfect young royal by all traditional standards. In addition, his physical appearance could’ve best been described as a cross between a fairytale’s ideal prince charming and a well-toned personal trainer.
So did I personally think he was handsome? Of course. However, despite his outward immaculateness, he definitely did not cause me or my friends to swoon on sight like so many of the other girls at Lady Agnue’s.
Why?
Because you could give a dirt-bag a pearly white smile and a fancy suit, but he’d still be a dirt-bag.
Thi
