as his mother was wont to say. Snug black hose encased his legs, with a short, pleated sky-blue tunic to top them off. His full sleeves were slashed, and his black velvet cap bore a small feather. He’d brushed his shoulder-length wavy hair and shaved. All in all, he looked the part the queen wanted him to play. He was afraid looks were as deep as it went. As little attention as he was paying, the musicians up on the balcony might as well have been squawking birds. He kept seeing Violet beaming at him across the stable yard. Women didn’t smile at him that way. They seduced. They flirted. In Eugenie’s case, they simpered. Sometimes they giggled like girls when he bedded them. They didn’t smile as if they were happy for him, as if he might be worth admiring for more than his masculine beauty or his sexual prowess. Violet smiled at him like a friend would do. He shook his head at the servant who was offering him a meat platter. His plate was full of things he was not eating. He sipped his wine, then twirled his silver soup spoon around his fingers.
What do You think about The Prince With No Heart (2011)?
