Ilya was standing across the street from a small café, half-hidden in the shadow of a bookstore awning. His eyes tracked Princess Adele through the window as she sat at a corner table, her silver hair catching the warm light.
He'd heard rumors that first princess was charmless and a ghost, but unfortunately, it seemed to him, people had buttons for their eyes.
She was even more beautiful in person than in that photograph. And those eyes—goddess, those eyes were smiling at something as she scrolled her phone.
Over the past week, it became a routine he couldn't break. Alexey would alert him whenever Adele left the castle and he would drop whatever he was doing and follow. Always at a distance. Always hidden.
Ilya didn't know anything about this weak girl, apart from the report, and he was not pleased that his body reacted to her as such, but he still had an urge to understand the aching need to get close to the girl with silver colored hair, and for that he needed to approach her.
