The Hands that We Choose to Hold

2267 Words

Lady Sophia swallowed hard, finding it rather hard to break away from his gaze. There was something that kept her feet firmly rooted to the ground, yet her heart melting down the endless abyss in his eyes, her chest threatening to c***k open in all of the places she hoped to keep secret. "That...is it such a bad thing?" He thinned his left eye, but broke into a small lopsided smile anyway, shrugging. "I happen to talk a lot." She nodded. "I would be honored." He laughed a little, then shook his head, his fingers passing through his hair. "I had just turned sixteen. Ripe for war and...quite ready to start acting like a prince. There were not a lot of expectations. Since I was only second in line, and for the first few years of my life, even till that very war, I wanted to..to be free. T

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