“I want to. He is extremely charming.” She watched the couple outside the doorway. “But although I have heard of royals traveling incognito, I have never yet to meet one who doesn’t have so much as a valet. At least not one who allegedly has a castle and kingdom and fortune.”

“So you don’t think he is who he says he is?” Gray held his breath. He and Beryl had never been especially friendly, but she might well prove to be an unexpected ally.

“I have no reason to believe otherwise. I simply find his behavior odd.” She shrugged. “But then, nobility is often odd.”

Gray’s gaze returned to Camille and her prince. “What do you think she sees in him?”

“My God, Grayson, have you looked at the man?” Beryl studied the prince. “He might well be the most attractive creature I have ever met. Why, I swear, when he smiles, the sun flashes off his teeth.”

“His perfect teeth,” Gray said under his breath.

Beryl laughed. “Besides that, he is a prince, and Camille has always wanted a prince.” She paused. “You probably don’t remember, but Camille read far more than I did as a girl. Usually, it was stories involving handsome princes who rescued maidens from wicked trolls or evil stepmothers. Stories of true love and all that.”

“I remember,” he said quietly.

“She married who she was expected to marry and, don’t mistake my words, she cared a great deal for her husband, but he was not the love of her life. Now, even though she denies it, I suspect she is looking for that fairy-story true love.”

“She says she’s not in love with him.”

“But she intends to be. She’s quite adamant about it.” Beryl sighed. “She doesn’t understand that it doesn’t really happen that way. You don’t fall in love because you wish it or you should.”

Gray’s throat tightened. “No, of course not.”

Beryl studied the couple for a moment. “I gather your cousin has kept you well informed through the years?”

Gray nodded. In the corridor, Pruzinsky drew Camille’s hand to his lips.

“Then I imagine you know I was not especially, oh, celibate during my widowhood.”

He chuckled. “And from the gossip Win related, not especially faithful once you remarried.”

“That’s all water under the bridge.” Beryl waved off the comment. “I have reformed, mended my wicked ways, as it were, as has Lionel. We are both more than happy with each other now. It’s quite lovely, really.”

He drew his brows together. “Why are you telling me this?”