Felix and the Prince (Forever Wilde 2)

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. I was fairly sure Sabine had asked me another question.

Her eyes flicked from Felix back to me. “He came to some dance lessons with me here and mentioned having gotten to know Hen while he was at Gadleigh. They must have become quite close for your sister to have invited him here, especially for the coronation ball.”

“Felix is her escort for the ball tonight, I believe. Jon is working, and our public relations people weren’t keen on the optics of him escorting her to an official event this soon anyway,” I said without thinking. My eyes were still tracking Felix as he pulled Hen out onto the dance floor. Had this been a movie, I would have excused myself from Sabine and tapped my sister’s shoulder to cut in.

How I would’ve loved to pull Felix into my arms and dance with him.

“Shall we switch?” Sabine asked.

I snapped my eyes back to hers. How the hell had she been able to read my mind so easily. “What? Jesus, no.”

“Why not? Felix promised me a dance tonight. Surely you don’t mind dancing with your sister,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “She may be your sister, but she doesn’t have cooties, Lior.”

I swallowed my embarrassment for being so obtuse before casting her a smile. “Yes, of course. Let’s switch.”

We danced over to where they spun in each other’s arms, and instead of tapping Felix’s shoulder, I placed my hand on it and gently squeezed.

“May I cut in?” I murmured as close to his ear as I could get without drawing attention.

Chapter 38

Felix

That deep, familiar voice next to my ear dripped sex straight down into my cock. Great, now I had a goddamned boner at the ball. I shuddered and clenched my teeth to hold back the undignified whimper that threatened to escape. After clearing my throat, I mumbled something suave like, “Uh, sure.”

I gave Hen a smile before turning to greet Sabine and give Lio a nod. But when I saw him up close, I almost swallowed my tongue.

He was magnificent.

The man in front of me was not the Lio I’d met a few weeks ago. He was poised and upright in full formal regalia. Polished medals, smooth ribbons, countless insignia, and even a silk sash all declared him to be someone of great power and accomplishment. I’d learned from our discussions at Gadleigh that he’d spent a few years in the French army, but now I saw evidence of his service on his chest along with who knew how many additional honors and awards.

This man in front of me was a king.

A king, and the reality of his situation came down on me like an imploding super dome, leaving me crushed under the dusty rubble. I was nothing. I was no one of importance. The bastard son of a selfish fame whore. A man so scared of his own shadow, I’d barely left the comforting scent of textbooks and Bunsen burners in the past decade.

“Felix,” the king said, his tone flush with meaning.

“Your Majesty,” I choked out before bobbing my head the way I’d seen everyone else do all evening and the way the etiquette teacher had instilled in me the day before.

I quickly turned and pulled Sabine into my arms and twirled her away to the other side of the dance floor. I hadn’t even looked back to see his face. There was no way I was taking the chance of someone, even the king himself, seeing me so overwhelmed by the day’s reality crashing in on me.

“Felix, are you okay?” Sabine asked sweetly. Concern wrinkled her brow enough to cause me to slow down and focus on her.

“I’m sorry. Yes. It’s just… well, I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed. I feel… out of my depth, to be honest,” I admitted. “I left my hometown a few weeks ago to study glass, and now here I am at a royal coronation ball.”

While it was the truth, it clearly wasn’t the real reason I was so upset. The real reason was knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that I didn’t belong in this place. I didn’t know the first thing about politics, diplomacy, or any of the other issues a royal family would have to deal with on a daily basis. What in hell had I been thinking? Daydreaming of a future with Lio had just been that—daydreaming. I couldn’t possibly contribute anything of value to this world.

It was a fairy tale only. It had all been just a damned fairy tale—the stuff of children’s dreams and young women’s fantasies. I was an imbecile.

While leading Sabine around the throngs of dancers in their formal finery, I tried my hardest to fake friendly interest in her chatter. She told me about the dates she and “Lior” had been on and how she couldn’t believe she was dating an actual king. She gushed about how sweet he was, how courteous he acted toward her. She even made a half joke about him being too gentlemanly at times, “If you know what I mean, Felix.”