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When I’d received his note and had to request an evening off from Alisa, I’d assumed we’d be dining in his chambers. Frankly, there’d be a bed nearby. Surely that’s what he was interested in from me?

So I was surprised when he led me to the back stairwell and out into the stable yard. I knew this was where he trained, but we surely weren’t there to discuss the prowess of the Royal Guard.

Instead he helped me into a lavish black carriage, painted with gold trim and the Royal family’s crest. I felt a little numb.

“Ye ken, ye dinnae have to do this, Yer Highness.”

“Wulf,” he gently corrected as he slid in beside me. “And do what?”

Was I blushing? I was likely blushing. “Treat me like a lady.”

His grin was wicked. “Ye are a lady, if I say ye are. I can treat ye any way I like.”

It was impossible not to smile at his cockiness. “Royal prerogative?”

He winked. “Smart lass.”

And I had to chuckle.

As the carriage trundled out of the castle compound and toward the capital city, I became more nervous. We were going out in public? With me dressed like…this?

Wulf twined his fingers through mine. It was a simple gesture, but it set me at ease, somehow.

I didn’t know what the evening would bring, but I knew I would enjoy myself. I was with him.

We made light conversation—which wasn’t at all awkward, despite our last interaction. When we arrived at the restaurant, the maître-d’ and waiters seemed beside themselves with pleasure to serve Wulf and his latest light-o-love.

Or…mistress?

Is that what they thought I was? Is that what I was? I’d allowed him to make love to me in my kitchen with barely a dozen words spoken to one another. There were much worse names for a woman who did that than “mistress”.

Who would have thought I’d ever be a prince’s mistress? I giggled at the thought, which earned me an indulgent smile from Wulf I felt all the way down in my core.

He’d taken me to Petite Chou-Fleur, the fanciest restaurant in all of Faencairn. My father had been a pastry chef; he’d taught me all I knew, and he’d worked here before I was born. That was the only way a person like me would have been welcome in a restaurant like this; as a servant. It was bizarre indeed to be seated with bows and murmurs of respect.

It was only then that I realized we were the only people in the restaurant. “Strange,” I murmured to Wulf, “I thought this place would be verra busy.”

He seemed oddly awkward as he fiddled with his goblet. “I…made arrangements.”

“Arrangements?”

“To…have the place to ourselves. I wanted nothing to distract ye—us…from each other.”

Oh.

He’d bought out Petite Chou-Fleur? Nay, he was a prince, and I needed to remember that.

Didn’t I?

“What should we order?” he suddenly asked. “I cannae imagine anything would taste as good as ye.”

“My savories, ye mean?” Was I flirting? I was definitely flirting, wasn’t I?

He smirked. “I said what I meant. Let’s order everything, aye?”

And I had to laugh.

The man clearly loved to eat, and I was excited to try such an incredible menu. It was easier to imagine having a dinner with Wulf, rather than a royal prince…