"Rose Whitaker was never the woman I desired to marry," Hartley said, a cold laugh leaving his lips. "And if it weren't for the fact that my mother arranged this, if it weren't for the fact that I would one day be king…"
"Prince Hartley," Alice suddenly said, her voice stern. "You are drunk."
He stared at her quietly, not a word leaving his lips. However, the way he looked at her sent Alice's hair rising all over her body. His eyes raked over every inch of her figure, and if it weren't for the fact that she knew she was clothed, she might even wonder if she was showing anything indecent.
Yet, despite his gaze lingering longer than usual, it wasn't sleazy by any means. If anything, Hartley's eyes were filled with longing― but that was something Alice did not dare to accept.
"Do you think there is another reality out there where I'm not the crown prince?" Hartley softly asked.
