INDY
Despite what I had said, Irene did not allow him to leave.
“The future king should not be found frozen in the snow outside my cottage,” she declared firmly, her hands planted on her hips. “There is still snow falling, and the roads are unstable. He will stay until the weather clears properly.”
Rome did not argue.
He only glanced at me, measuring my reaction, as if my words still mattered more than his own pride.
And that was how we found ourselves eating dinner together that evening.
Otis and Mila did not leave, of course. News traveled faster than the wind in our little cluster of cottages, and the presence of the crown prince beneath Irene’s roof had turned the place into the center of quiet excitement. A few of the elders had already come earlier with excuses about lending h
