Victoria
I never imagined myself drinking as if tomorrow didn’t exist. And yet, here I was, glass after glass with none other than the damned prince himself.
“Are you all right?” Richard asked.
I glanced at him and nodded, saying nothing.
The whispers were worse than the wine. Eyes kept drifting toward us, smiles curving too knowingly, voices lowering just enough to sting. Court gossip thrived on moments like this.
Annoying didn’t even begin to cover it.
None of this had been my choice. The king himself had stopped us, turning a polite gathering into an obligation wrapped in command. Richard had tried, truly tried to extract us from the situation, but when an order came directly from the king himself, refusal was not an option.
Not with so many eyes watching. Not when obedience was
