Julien: A Billionaire Royalty Romance (Spoiled Royal) by Gia Bailey

Author:Gia Bailey [Bailey, Gia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Anya

We received word that my uncle had indeed taken up the reigns in my absence, and was treating my disappearance as an abduction. That made it more important than ever that I not be discovered hiding in Koroylovka until I was ready to move against him. Julien seemed to be taking an interest in helping me, which again, was making me feel things I didn’t know what to do with. It was terribly cliché, to fall for the handsome, strong prince, who had saved you and taken you in. Call me cliché, in that case, as the prince of Koroylovka was swoon-worthy as hell. The kiss the night before was torturing me. He was a gentleman in a way women dream about, and I’d never met someone who put me at ease so effortlessly. I felt safe around him, which was a mean feat after the last few days. That secure feeling made me want to be around him more, no doubt why I found myself wandering the closed and extremely private wing of the palace. Outside of meal delivery, and the odd cleaner, it was just the prince and me in this area, and I wished that meant I would run into him more often.

The prince’s wing was something else. It was like the lavish palaces I’d read about in books as a young, wistful, and frankly lonely girl. Almesta castle had little in common with the wealth and grandeur of Julien’s home. There was even an empty ballroom, I discovered to my delight, the next morning. The early morning sun shone through the windows, and lit the room with pale, ghostly beauty, reflecting off the snow outside. Gilt, gold, and amber lined the walls and mirrors. So many mirrors. The floor was perfectly preserved parquet, and the oiled and smooth wood beneath my feet had me stripping my shoes off, and rolling my socks down a little to only pad my toes. My greatest pleasure as a hobby had been ballet. My father had encouraged it when I was younger, and then, as I’d gotten older, it had become something to fondly reminisce over, rather than do. It wasn’t fitting for a young woman to show her body in such a way, my uncle had told me only a month ago when I’d found a quiet time and place to practice. Just try and stop me now, uncle, I thought mutinously.

There was a stunning grand piano in the bay window, and I touched the keys lightly. I couldn’t play well, but I loved the sound. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found a song to dance to. Melancholy classical violin filled the air as I stretched my body. I didn’t bother with the lights, just closed my eyes, and let the music lift me. At first, I danced the steps I’d learned with tutors, and then, I let myself move as I wanted to. As I needed to. Emotions that had pent up inside

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