Can a prince really be that stupid?

“Your eyes are so beautiful, Belle.” Izzie pulls a brush through my curls, yanking all the life from them. “Dark emerald and grey, like our mother’s. Instead of opening your mouth, you should help the prince focus on those when he arrives.”

“I’ll try.”

“Try hard,” she scolds. “I mean, that’s what I would do if this were my only shot at landing a prince. This is as close as you’ll ever get to attracting a suitor, so don’t cry if it doesn’t work out.”

“Right…” I don’t dare mention that she cried bloody murder this morning when she found out she was ineligible for this silly fitting game.

“Are you reading anything good lately?” she asks.

“Romeo & Juliet,” I say. “Oh, and I’m almost done with Oedipus Rex.”

“I see.” She loops the red ribbon around my smoothed hair. “Are they romances?”

“No, Izzie.” I hold back a sigh. “They both end in utter tragedy.”

“What?” She sucks in a breath. “Then why are you reading them? Better yet, how could any author bother to write such awful things?”

I bite my tongue as hard as I can.

Moments like this are what I wish most people witnessed when they complimented how “well-read” and “worldly” my sister is.

They’re completely unaware that she reads the same three books every week—usually skipping ahead to revisit her favorite chapters—and I’m convinced that she can recite those stories word for word. All without ever glancing at the page. She complains about being misunderstood and wanting to explore the world outside of our small kingdom, but whenever I tell her that we should go together, she comes up with an excuse.

Standing still, I force myself to smile as she paints my face in a pale powder and coats my lips in a crimson rouge.

“Okay, you’re all set.” She spins me around to face my father. “This is the best I can do.”

“Much better.” He glances at his pocket watch and pushes me closer to the door. “Don’t keep him waiting when he’s close. Make a good impression and say all the right things.”

“All the right things” means utter silence in his book.

I stare through the glass as a sparkling gold carriage led by four grand, white horses makes its way down our winding road.

With every galloping step, I can’t help but wonder what life in the other kingdoms is like.

They can’t all be this way…

When the procession stops in front of our gate, two footmen step into the rain and roll out a royal blue carpet.

Another servant opens the back door and holds up a parasol while another ties the stallions to our fence.

The prince emerges in a white and blue coat, and I crane my neck to steal a glimpse of his face. I can make out a hard, chiseled jawline and intense green eyes, but my heart doesn’t skip a beat when I see all of his breathtaking features.