He smiled at her. His dimples heightened and his strawberry hair seemed like it was glowing
She thought he was handsome earlier but his smile was in another league. Gentle yet devious. "I can understand why. You must be Princess Eleanor."
She was puzzled by what he meant by that. "I mean I heard the queen's second daughter was a true gem. You are indeed as the rumours say. " He explained. A sad smile lingered on her face. So he knew her.
"Yeah, I am Eleanor." She muttered.
"The princess who is known only for her beauty which might fade one day." She added, sounding disheartened.
"Because something is withered doesn't mean it wasn't beautiful before." He mentioned, He then reached out for his jacket and pulled out a primrose. Almost dried and withered. Eleanor was confused, looking at the flower.
"What do you see?" He asked her. Her brows pulled together.
