“Christian lay on his back next to her, his shirt sleeves rolled up and one tanned arm behind his head. The sun was warm, the sky clear and blue with not a single cloud in sight. It was a perfect day. “You really did that?” she asked. “You should have seen his face,” Christian replied. “And he didn’t tell your mother?” He rolled onto his side, his head propped up with his hand. “Gaspard said nothing. He never mentioned the frog.” They broke into fresh laughter. Earlier that m...orning, Christian’s horse had thrown a shoe and so Gaspard had taken the horses and left them to go in search of a blacksmith. She had intended to keep her distance from the prince, but her efforts hadn’t lasted for long. She liked spending time with him. She treasured every minute in his company, because she knew once they reached St Goarshausen, she would be alone again. She felt wrong for wanting to be with him, but it was always so easy speaking to Christian.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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