“You’re not like most of them, are you?” Prince Baldair’s voice was softer than she had heard it before, the jest and levity absent. “Most of them?” she repeated, bracing herself for a parrot comment. “You’re not the first low-born I have invited to lunch.” He leaned back in his chair, food forgotten. “They come in, swoon over my chambers, prattle about the food endlessly, try everything they can to make eyes at me. By the end of it all, they’re belly up and bare on the bed.”
