The prince moved closer, his golden eyes glinting with an unsettling intent as his scent, sharp with the bitterness of alcohol, washed over Noelle. Holding back the wave of nausea, Noelle kept his face neutral, willing himself to endure the discomfort without a single twitch.
They walked in silence until they reached a dead end in the maze. Noelle turned to leave, but the prince was already there, blocking his path. In one smooth movement, the prince stepped forward, trapping him against the dense greenery.
"You see," the prince drawled, his voice low as he reached out, letting a few strands of Noelle's hair slip through his fingers, "being who I am, I've been around beautiful people all my life—men, women. But you… you're something else."
