CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sophia stopped as Rupert’s hand rested on her shoulder, the strength of his grip enough to keep her pinned in place regardless of anything she might want. The sight of the prince should have probably made her think of fairytales, because he was golden-haired and handsome enough for any of them. Instead, it just made her afraid.
“Lady Sophia,” he said in a courtly tone, moving to stand before her. “I’m so glad that I caught you before you left us.”
Caught was the word, and Sophia could see from his thoughts that he’d meant it quite literally. He saw her the same way that he might see a doe running before his hounds: as something to be run down for the sport of it.
“Your highness,” she said, forcing a smile and remembering to adopt the accent she’d used as Sophia of Mein
