Page 35 of The Cinderella Prince

“Darling, you need to be gentle with Tristan,” she said. “He won’t believe your kindness or your feelings. He doesn’t believe anyone’s. It’s hard to make him see he’s worth your time and attention on the best of days and impossible on not-so-good days.”

It all made sense now. The selflessness, the generosity, the readiness to sacrifice himself for anyone’s benefit. He was grief-torn and scarred. A poor little boy who survived and couldn’t fathom that he might have been worth saving. “What can I do?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Mama Viv said softly. “Don’tdoanything. Just be careful with Tristan because it takes him time to accept that he’s worth your effort.” Mama Viv gave the smallest gasp. “And, darling, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Tristan about this unless you truly have to. It’s hard to earn his trust, especially if he gets it into his head that you’re doing it out of pity. That boy can be as stubborn as a mule.” She said the last past so lovingly that it sent a shudder through my chest. “And I care for him very much. I wouldn’t want him to hate me for this.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Mama Viv,” I said. After a moment of processing my thoughts, I smiled a little. “I’d never want to hurt him, you know. He’s…very dear to me.”

“So I have suspected,” Mama Viv said. “I’ll have the room waiting for you when you’re ready to move in. You’llhave to ask Bradley about the bar shift or, if you’d prefer it, Millie for the kitchen.”

I nodded, thanked Mama Viv, and hesitated before leaving. Mama Viv was already turning back to the mirror when I dared myself to say what was in my heart. “I think he’s lucky to have you,” I said. “They—we—all are.”

Mama Viv waved her hand nonchalantly. “Darling, I believe Tristan may be lucky to haveyou. And, if I’m not wrong—which I so rarely am in any area of life that it would come nearly as a pleasant surprise—you may be just as lucky to have him show you the way.”

I nodded. It was something to think about, but I wouldn’t discuss it further with Mama Viv. My head was spinning with information, and my heart was splitting into tiny shards, each sharp and cutting through my soul.

I left Mama Viv to get ready for the day, then went downstairs, through a hallway, and into the bar. Roman was helping open the bar while Bradley refilled the fridge.

“’Sup,” Roman said.

I greeted him and slowed down as he flipped a chair over and set it by the table. “Need help?”

“We can handle this,” Roman said, but he was no longer doing it. Instead, he looked at me, nearly bristled, and thrust his chin out. “Tristan was with you last night, huh?”

For the briefest of moments, I worried about what I had gotten into. Roman, nicely built, although shorter than me by almost an entire head, with his hair cropped short and giving signs of curling, and with his eyes so full of fire, was undoubtedly attractive. My heart firmly belonged to Tristan, but I wasn’t stupid. And I could seeRoman and Tristan sharing intimate moments at some point in their lives if that was what had happened.

For this one moment, I expected Roman to scare me away jealously or threaten me to leave Tristan behind.

But that moment passed when Roman’s eyes softened. “I like you, Cedric,” he said.

I cocked a corner of my lips.

Roman spoke like it pained him to say these things, but he plowed through. “I like you, but if you wrong him, I’m gonna…”

I lifted my hand. “I got the warning already, Rome,” I said, choosing to call him the same that everyone else around here did. He seemed relieved that I had stopped him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I know he has people watching out for him. And now I’m just one more to watch his back.”

My significant look locked on Rome’s eyes. We gazed at one another for a few moments before he relaxed. There was almost an air of appreciation that he didn’t need to pile up threats. He knew me as a hardworking helper. There was a sort of respect between us. “Good man,” Roman said with a small smile.

I winked and put a hand on his shoulder. Moving from the bar, I could almost plot out my life. I could see myself here early in the morning—or not so early, like today, when the bar opened late—doing these things with the people I respected and who measured me on what I did and not who my ancestors were. I could see myself walking across the street to take Tristan’s hand so we could spend a day together.

Such a simple life, Alexander’s voice sneered at me. Buthe was wrong. There was beauty in this simplicity, but it was more than that. Underneath all this was a world of opportunities, an endless well of hope, and never-ending optimism. I could drink it until my dying breath. I could bathe in it with the one person who was capable of making my heart lift and my mind spin.

I stepped outside and watched the building across the street. He would be ready by now. And I would tell him that it was all sorted out. I was staying in Hudson Burrow until we figured out how to make it permanent.Until I figure out how to inform my family. It would be a scandal.

My heart sank a little. I’d lifted such battlements between myself and the reality, but they were strong. I wouldn’t take them down just yet. I wanted to give this thing a try more than I wanted anything in the world. Just for once, I didn’t want to be a prince with duties. I wanted to be selfishly in love and to have something that was mine and nobody else’s.

The weight of a gaze made me turn my head to my right. At the end of the street, moving away from me, was a slender woman with a tight, angry ponytail, disappearing around the corner.

No, I told myself. I was just paranoid. It was all this guilt that I was keeping down and hiding from myself. The nasty feeling of letting down my parents, my siblings, my people. It made me think there were agents out to get me. But the likely truth of the matter was that Alexander expected me to return when I was ready.

Never, I said silently.I’m not returning to that life. They will all see me only when I am ready to resign my duties.

Inhaling deeply, I crossed the street and forgot all aboutguilt and agents and distant kingdoms. Tristan was downstairs, in front of his building, leaning against the brick wall with his hands tucked into his tight denim pants and a sleeveless shirt tucked into the pants, revealing his sculpted arms and the low, sexy neckline.

My heart jittered as I neared him, my arms stretching out to him, taking his hands as soon as he offered them. I pulled him in, made our bodies touch, and kissed him deeply out in the open.

“Missed me?” he asked.

“Desperately,” I said without telling a lie, though it had been barely an hour. “Now, you have a promise to keep.”

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