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With each step, Prince Bernard rehearsed his approach, thinking of the correct way to be with her.
As the first guests began to trickle into the palace grounds, their laughter and chatter drifting through the hedges, Bernard took a deep breath, steadying himself. With the grace of one who knows his role, he made his way toward the grand ballroom, ready to begin the courtship in earnest. Tonight, he would endeavor to be more than a prince; he would be a man worthy of a princess's love. And perhaps, he would find the key to unlock the heart of the romantic, resolute Eloise.
Chapter Three
The grand ballroom of the palace glittered like a jewel under the soft glow of a hundred crystal chandeliers. An orchestra played a waltz that seemed to weave through the throng of nobility.
Eloise, her gown's deep emerald silk whispering against her skin, stood slightly apart from the swirl of splendor. She leaned against an ornate column, the cool marble a contrast to the warmth emanating from the mass of bodies twirling on the dance floor. Her mind wasn’t on the dancers. Instead, she was thinking of the book she had yet to finish that she’d started the evening before. She knew she should be thinking seriously about Prince Bernard’s idea of them marrying, but she just had to get away from reality, and for that, there was nothing better than reading.
"Wouldn't you rather be out there?" teased a passing courtier.
"Actually," Eloise replied, "I was just wishing I could lose myself in a good book."
The courtier chuckled, tipping his head in polite acknowledgment before being swept away by the tide of guests.
Her brothers, always so full of life, were each dancing attentively with their wives. James moved with particular care, his hands gently cradling Amanda, her curved belly telling everyone that the future of the monarchy was safe within her. The sight of his protective embrace brought an inadvertent sigh from Eloise’s lips. The tenderness they shared was as palpable as the music filling the air.
"Beaming like a proud sister, are we?" another voice chimed in, this time belonging to one of her mother’s ladies-in-waiting known for her sharp wit.
"Is it that obvious?" Eloise replied, her eyes still fixed on James and Amanda.
"Only to anyone with eyes," the lady quipped before flitting away.
As she watched her brothers and their brides, Eloise's thoughts turned to Prince Bernard. The pages of an unwritten future fluttered in her mind.
Eloise's gaze lingered on her brothers and their wives, her heart aching with a bittersweet pang. Her flesh and blood, the princes of Theron, swirled in an elegant dance with their sweethearts. The golden glow from the grand chandeliers cast a radiant aura around them, as if they were characters lifted straight from the pages of a fairytale—a tale she read but never lived.
"Simply radiant tonight, aren't they?" murmured a dowager duchess.
"Radiant," Eloise agreed, her voice soft. "Their happiness is the light of the kingdom."
"Ah, but what of you, my dear?" prodded the dowager, her cane tapping rhythmically against the marble floor as if to punctuate her words. "Surely there's a spark awaiting kindling?"
Eloise chuckled lightly at the rather pointed question, though her heart raced with uncertainty. "Perhaps," she said, her eyes flitting away to hide the flicker of jealousy that threatened to betray her composed exterior.
Her thoughts, those treacherous whispers, strayed to Prince Bernard's offer—his proposal not of passion, but of political alliance. Could she stand beside him, cloaked in the regal trappings of duty without the warm embrace of love? As she observed the dancers, her brothers and their spouses locked in tender holds, she wrestled silently with the notion of sacrifice.
"Your contemplation runs deep tonight, Lady Eloise," a familiar voice teased, breaking into her reverie.
"Lord Jasper," she greeted the young nobleman, her smile genuine yet tinged with melancholy. "Do you ever wonder if we are mere pawns on a chessboard, moved at the whim of fate?"
"Only when I find myself envious of the king's ability to leap over others," he jested, offering a playful wink. "But you, Lady Eloise, seem more the queen—graceful, powerful, and with a will of your own."
"Flattery will earn you no favors," she quipped, although his words sparked a flame of hope within her. Yes, she desired to marry for love, as her brothers had, but maybe, just maybe, she could steer her own course within the confines of an arranged match.
"Flattery, or merely the truth spoken aloud?" Lord Jasper countered, bowing slightly before excusing himself to join the fray of dancers.
Left alone once again, Eloise’s mind circled back to the promise of possibility—to the chance that perhaps, in accepting Bernard's suit, she might yet find a love that would rival the storybook romances of her siblings. It was a gamble of the heart, one she wasn’t certain she dared to take, but the whisper of 'what if' echoed louder than the strings of the violins.
"May fortune favor the bold," she whispered to herself, a silent prayer to guide her through the uncharted waters of her destiny.
As she looked through the throng of people in the ballroom, she spotted Bernard walking toward her. There was a waltz playing, and the two of them had waltzed in the past, but she’d never really seen him dance any other dances.
Prince Bernard was a vision of royal elegance, his broad shoulders accentuated by the cut of his dark sapphire coat which bore the insignia of his lineage. His chestnut hair was immaculately styled. Never had she thought a handsome man would be able to make her heart flutter, but as he made his way toward her, she realized that the tingling in her body was definitely for Prince Bernard.
Eloise's fingers brushed against the silk of her dress, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. She watched as he approached her, a nervous smile on his face.
"May I have this dance?" The prince's voice, deep and resonant, interrupted Eloise's reverie. She turned to find him standing before her, an arm extended in invitation, an affable smile touching his lips.
