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Their eyes met, and the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for an answer that would shape the canvas of their futures.
She looked up at him, her heart tapping a tentative rhythm against her ribcage. “I hope so,” she replied, her words infused with an honesty that seemed to bridge the distance between their worlds. She watched as he reached into his pocket, producing a small object that glinted in the dim light.
“For you,” he said, extending a delicate silver charm shaped like a palette, its tiny brushes adorned with minute gemstones. “A memento, to remember today.”
Nicole’s fingers trembled slightly as she accepted the charm, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. “It’s beautiful, Theodore. Thank you.” Her voice was a soft murmur.
“Promise me something?” Theodore’s gaze held hers.
“Anything,” she responded softly.
“Promise that no matter where your art takes you, you’ll always carry a piece of today with you.” His words were a gentle command, wrapped in the velvet of his noble upbringing.
“I promise,” Nicole affirmed, glancing down at the charm now resting against her palm.
With a final look that lingered longer than necessary, Theodore stepped back, his shoulders squared with the duty that awaited him outside these walls. “Until next time, then,” he said.
“Until next time,” Nicole echoed, watching him disappear into the night. She clutched the charm, feeling the imprint of his touch linger like a whispered secret.
Alone now, amidst the silent witnesses of canvas and paint, Nicole pondered the day they’d spent. Her heart fluttered, and she wondered if perhaps she’d been too hasty to turn him away when he’d asked her to a ball. For a man like Theodore, it might be worth it to live life in the limelight.
Meanwhile, Theodore walked down the palace corridors, his mind replaying every glance, every word. The way her eyes lit up when she spoke of her passion, the grace with which she moved around the gallery—it all stirred something deep within him, a longing he hadn’t known before.
Chapter Six
The silence of the gallery was abruptly shattered by the ring of Prince Theodore’s mobile phone. He excused himself from Nicole’s side with a graceful nod.
“Excuse me, Nicole,” he said, his voice a low murmur that belied the sudden tightness coiling in his chest. “Duty calls.”
Nicole watched him, her brow furrowed in concern as she observed the prince’s tall frame stiffen, his eyes widening as he listened to the voice on the other end.
“James?” Theodore’s voice was a whisper. “What happened?”
“Your Highness,” came the voice, strained and urgent, “there’s been an attempt on Prince James’s life. You must come at once.”
“Is he...” Theodore began, his throat constricting around the words, “is my brother alive?”
“Stable, for now,” the voice confirmed, though the reassurance did nothing to ease the dread that latched onto his heart like ivy.
“And Amanda?”
“Also stable, but the doctors are concerned for the child.”
“Understood,” Theodore managed to say, his voice steady despite the tempest raging inside him. “I am on my way.”
He ended the call, his mind racing, yet every thought filled with what this could mean—not just for James and Amanda, but for the stability of their nation, for the fragile thread that held their family together. Duty beckoned him, its call more urgent than ever before.
“Nicole,” Theodore said, turning to her with a gravity that drenched his features, “there’s been another attempt on my brother’s life. I need to get to the hospital right away.”
“Of course,” Nicole replied. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Come with me,” he implored, the command soft but firm.
Nicole nodded immediately. “Of course.” She followed him out the door, locking the gallery.
He and Nicole were ensconced in the back of a black government sedan, rushing toward the hospital where James and Amanda lay.
“Will they be all right?” Nicole asked.
