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THE SUN BEGAN ITS DESCENT, casting the skies in hues of gold and crimson, an apt backdrop for the evening's formal dinner. The palace's grand ballroom had been transformed into an enclave of elegance, tables adorned with crystal and silver.
"Shall we?" Bernard asked, extending his arm as they stood at the entrance of the ballroom. His eyes held a spark of excitement, the energy palpable and contagious.
"Absolutely," Eloise agreed, placing her hand upon his arm. Together, they stepped into the ballroom, the buzz of conversation crescendoing into applause as the guests acknowledged the royal couple.
Throughout the dinner, laughter mingled with the clinking of fine china, and toasts were raised like banners on a battlefield, each one a declaration of happiness and well wishes.
"May I say, my dear, you are even more captivating under the glow of a hundred candles," Bernard murmured, a playful twinkle in his eye as he leaned closer to Eloise.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Your Highness," Eloise quipped back, her cheeks warming with a blush.
"Then I shall have to be insufferably flattering," he promised.
As the final course was served and the music swelled, Princess Eloise knew that this night would be etched in memory, a prelude to a lifetime of shared smiles and tender jests. As she sat by Prince Bernard's side, the laughter of their guests wrapping around them like a regal cloak, she couldn't help but feel that their love story was only just beginning.
The evening's festivities had faded to a hushed echo as Princess Eloise led Prince Bernard by hand into the solitude of her library.
"Your collection is truly impressive," Bernard remarked.
"Ah, but do you judge a book by its cover, or the story within?" Eloise teased.
"By the company it keeps," he replied smoothly, his gaze settling upon her with warmth.
They settled onto an overstuffed sofa, nestled between towering shelves. With a shared smile, each picked up a volume from the small table beside them, and a comfortable silence enveloped the room. Yet even as they read, their hands found each other, fingers entwining.
As time slipped away unnoticed, the glow from the fire seemed to grow more intimate, and the distance between them lessened. The pages lay forgotten as Bernard turned toward Eloise. He leaned closer, tilting her chin upward with a tender touch, and their lips met in a kiss that was both an exploration and a homecoming.
The world outside the library walls could have crumbled to dust and neither would have stirred. But as the intensity of the kiss deepened, a sliver of restraint threaded through Eloise's desire. She pulled back just enough to search Bernard's eyes with her own, a hint of vulnerability flickering there.
"Bernard," she whispered, "there's something I must tell you."
He nodded, his thumb brushing her cheek with the softness of a petal.
"I wish to wait until our wedding night," she confessed, her cheeks blooming with a delicate flush. "I hope—"
"Say no more," Bernard assured her, silencing her with another gentle kiss pressed to her forehead. "I understand."
Relief washed over Eloise.
Bernard's affirmation warmed Eloise, yet as they parted from their latest kiss—a sizzling imprint of lips that told a tale of restraint and yearning—his sigh was as heavy as the velvet curtains draping the tall windows of the library.
"Eloise," he began, his voice a husky note that danced with mirth despite the gravity of his confession. "Agreeing to wait is something I will happily do, but I must admit, waiting for you has become the sweetest torment I've ever known."
Eloise's laugh filled the room. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steadiness of his heart beneath her palm.
"Perhaps it would be prudent, then," she suggested, arching an eyebrow playfully, "to suggest your return to Allenia? The distance might ensure we won’t give in to temptation."
The corners of Bernard's mouth twitched into a smile. His gaze locked with hers.
"Your logic is sound," he conceded. "Yet the very idea of distance from you seems a more formidable trial than the tempest of desires we navigate."
Bernard's fingers trailed over the spines of ancient tomes as he paced the length of Eloise's library. His face betrayed a flicker of reluctance.
"Eloise," he began, halting his march to stand before her, "the mere thought of leaving your side is painful. But, my schedule demands I return to Allenia after the coming weekend."
Eloise, reclining in her favorite chaise with a novel resting unattended in her lap, looked up at him. The corners of her lips curled into a smile that belied the tightness in her chest.
"Bernard," she said, "how I wish we could simply elope and satisfy our hearts' urging. Yet, we are tasked with orchestrating a wedding befitting royalty." She gestured to the stack of bridal magazines and planners that had taken siege upon the mahogany coffee table. "The timeline is as tight as it can possibly be already."
