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“What did I do wrong now?” he asks, exasperated but amused.

She lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head as if he’s utterly hopeless. “You didn’t kiss her hand! Every prince kisses a princess’s hand.” To drive her point home, she smacks her forehead.

I pinch my lips, enjoying this way too much. Cillian exhales, then takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to the top of it. But when his eyes lock with mine, something shifts.

The air around us thickens, my skin tingling from the warmth of his lips. The playful moment turns electric, and suddenly, I’m left frozen, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

Clearing my throat, I settle into my miniature chair, but the moment isn’t lost on me. And when Cillian lowers his large frame onto a tiny hot-pink kiddie stool across from me, I can’t hold back a chuckle.

Fia raises a brow at him. “Did you tell her how pretty she looks?”

He leans in toward her, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I’m really not good at this, am I?”

She shakes her head, mouth pinched in disapproval.

Cillian turns back to me, eyes dark and full of intent as he reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You’re my every dream come true, Dinara Quinn.”

My stomach does a flip at howgenuineit sounds, like he means every single word. I can barely breathe. He doesn’t let go of my hand, running circles over my skin, making my heart race faster.

“What would you like with your tea?” Adora asks, grinning as she holds up a tray of make-believe pastries.

“The chocolate cake, please,” I manage to say, trying to sound unaffected, even though my heart is threatening to leap out of my chest under Cillian’s hooded gaze.

“Coming right up.” She places a plastic slice of cake on my plate before turning to her uncle. “And for you, sir?”

Cillian taps his chin dramatically. “I think I’ll have whatever my wife’s having.”

“Good choice, sir,” Fia adds. “But we only have one piece of chocolate. You get strawberry instead.”

“Strawberry it is.” Cillian chuckles, looking back at me with a grin as we both pick up our forks and start nibbling on our desserts.

As soon as his fingers release mine, a tiny part of me wishes he hadn’t let go.

The girls pour more “tea” into our cups as we continue eating, the room alive with their laughter and the soft clink of plastic cups.

When we’re done, Fia and Adora grab a small kiddie music player. A catchy little tune fills the room, and the girls turn to Cillian with one of thoseknowinglooks.

“Oh, right…” Cillian clears his throat, standing and offering me his hand with exaggerated formality. “Princess Dinara, may I have the honor of this dance?”

I can’t help but laugh at howroyalhe’s being. As he stands there, hand outstretched, I wonder if this is what life would look like if we had kids. He’s so natural with them, so tender and playful. My heart melts.

“You may, Prince Cillian,” I tease, slipping into the role with ease as he helps me to my feet.

The girls giggle, their laughter bubbling through the air like magic, making the moment feel all the more special.

Cillian curls an arm around my back, holding me close, his other hand in mine as we begin to sway together, lost in the music. My head rests against his chest, and for a brief moment, it feels soright, like we’ve been doing this for years. A quiet sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes, letting myself feel the warmth of his embrace.

The song changes, but we keep dancing, moving in perfect harmony, oblivious to everything but each other. The moment stretches on, peaceful and perfect, until the last notes fade away.

“We had a lovely time,” I tell the girls as they start gathering their things. “Thank you for being such wonderful hostesses.”

“Come back anytime!” Adora calls, her voice practically sparkling.

“Alright.” I smile.

“Bye!” Fia waves as they start to head out, leaving the music player on, but in the last second, she turns around and says, “Thanks for the money, Uncle Cillian!” Then her little face freezes, eyes wide. “Uh-oh…”

“Wait, what money?” I glance between them with a narrowed stare.