AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Prince Theodore of Theron swept through the capital’s bustling streets with a purpose that matched his royal stride. Clad in casual attire, yet still exuding an air of nobility, he was on a quest that many would call him crazy for. He was looking for the woman he’d fallen in love with...through his painting and a canvas.
She was no duchess or baroness, but a face in the crowd that had captured his artistic soul. Now, he sought her in reality, combing through the heart of his kingdom for a stranger who had unwittingly become his muse.
As he approached the familiar patisserie, whose scents of fresh bread and sweet confections permeated the morning air, he steeled himself for the inevitable. The bell above the door chimed his arrival, announcing the presence of royalty.
“Your Highness!” cooed a chorus of female voices. A bevy of young women, each more eager than the last, clustered around him, their smartphones held aloft ready to snap a picture of his ready smile.
“Would you grace us with a photo, Prince Theodore?” one asked, her eyes aglow with the thrill of proximity to the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor.
“Of course,” he replied, the practiced smile of public charm gracing his lips as he obliged them. The flash of cameras punctuated the bakery like the flashes of paparazzi, though here, he was amongst his people, safe from the ravenous media.
“Thank you, Your Highness! You’re so much more handsome in person!” another exclaimed, her cheeks turning the shade of the raspberry tarts on display.
Theodore nodded graciously, but his mind was elsewhere, scanning the room over the heads of his admirers. He searched for a glimpse of slate-colored irises, the unique hue that he had committed to memory and canvas. His gaze flitted from face to face: hopeful, expectant, but ultimately unfulfilled.
“Is there anything special you’re looking for today, Your Highness?” the baker inquired, noting the prince’s distracted air.
“Something very special indeed,” Theodore murmured, more to himself than to the inquisitive crowd. “I would like one of your croissants with honey and butter.” He’d had croissants from the small bakery many times in his life. “I’ll take it to go.” He had no desire to be fawned over as he ate.
After paying for his treat, he gave a final nod to the gathering, and he excused himself. The crisp autumn air greeted him as he stepped back onto the cobbled streets.
His search continued, driven by a yearning that was both uncharacteristic and unsettling. This was not the pursuit of a prince destined to rule, but of a man ensnared by the elusive promise of a connection that defied status and protocol.
Today, however, the capital city of Theron remained a labyrinth with no end, its pathways leading him ever onward, but never to her.
Theodore’s footsteps echoed softly as he crossed the threshold into a quaint cafe, its walls adorned with local artwork and the aroma of hearty broth wafting through the air. He removed his gloves with a practiced ease, placing them gently beside him as he seated himself at a corner table. The murmurs in the room hushed for a breath, only to swell again with discreet excitement.
“Your Highness,” the waitress curtsied slightly, her cheeks flushed with restrained enthusiasm. “What can I get for you today?”
“Just a bowl of your tomato basil soup, thank you,” Theodore replied, offering a courteous smile. As she nodded and departed, he observed the other patrons, hearing snatches of conversations, and the quiet clink of spoons against bowls, but no gray eyes met his.
“Excuse me, Prince Theodore?” A tentative voice reached him from a table nearby. He turned to see a young woman holding out her phone, her hand quivering ever so slightly. “Could I... could we take a photo together?”
“Of course,” Theodore obliged without hesitation, rising from his seat. He leaned in slightly, granting her a gracious smile as the camera captured the moment. Returning to his solitude, he couldn’t help but muse on the nature of such requests. They were never about duty or the weight of a crown; they were always lighthearted, seeking the warmth of his playful reputation.
The soup arrived, steam curling upward like a dance, and Theodore thanked the waitress with a polite nod. As he savored the rich flavors, he allowed his thoughts to wander. It occurred to him that perhaps it was the very absence of responsibility that drew these women to him instead of James. To be seen with the fun prince, the charming rogue—it was a dalliance free from the inherent burdens of queendom.
Somehow he’d always been the more popular prince, but now that his brother was married, he was more sought after than ever.
“Your brother is quite the statesman,” an older gentleman at a neighboring table commented. “But you, sir, you bring joy to the people.”
Theodore chuckled softly, acknowledging the truth in the stranger’s words. “One must play the role assigned to him,” he said.
“Ah, but even beneath the mask, Your Highness, you have a heart for the people,” the gentleman raised his teacup in a subtle salute. “That cannot be feigned.”
“Thank you,” Theodore responded, touched by the sincerity of the observation. As he finished his meal, the laughter and snapshots of his public persona felt like a mask he wore in public. And behind the mirthful mask lay a longing for the understanding of one very special woman.
With a final spoonful, he pushed the bowl aside, his appetite for both food and this fruitless quest momentarily sated. Rising, he left payment on the table—a few extra coins for the waitress’s trouble—and stepped back into the bustling city, where the whispers of his name followed him everywhere.
Theodore emerged from the quaint warmth of the café and continued down the cobblestone streets of Theron. He resumed his stroll with a sense of purpose yet weighed by an undercurrent of resignation.
“Prince Theodore!” a young woman called out as she hastened her steps to catch up with him, her eyes alight with excitement. “May I have a picture with you?”
“Of course,” he said, flashing his most charming smile as he obliged her request, though his gaze swiftly resumed its hunt. With each click of the camera shutter, he scanned the sea of faces drifting past him, searching for that singular pair of stormy gray eyes that haunted his dreams.
“Thank you, Your Highness! You’re so much more handsome in person!” the woman gushed, clutching her phone to her chest.
