Chapter 4

That night, when we got back to the estate, Ben was already asleep.

I sat in the courtyard under the moonlight mending a tear in his clothes from climbing a tree earlier that day.

Edward appeared at the courtyard gate at some point, carrying a bowl of hot soup. "You're still awake this late?

"The kitchen made chicken soup. I had them pour an extra bowl." He handed it to me, then sat down on the stone stool beside me.

I took the soup but didn't drink it. I just held it in my hands for the warmth.

"Charlotte, back when you were at Sinclair Manor, did you drink chicken soup like this too?"

"Better than this," I said. "At Sinclair Manor, they put onion, bay leaves, and thyme in it and simmered it for hours. The broth turned golden."

"What about now?"

"Now?" I smiled. "Now I'm just grateful if I get chicken soup at all. I don't care what's in it."

Edward looked at me, the moonlight reflected in his eyes, carrying an emotion I couldn't quite name.

"Do you regret it?" he asked. "Marrying that childhood sweetheart of yours. Do you regret it?"

I thought about it, then shook my head.

"No. William... he was the best person I've ever known. He saved my father, saved me, saved a lot of people.

"On the day he died, I told him I'd marry him again in the next life. He said there was no need. In the next life, he'd be the one to suffer so I could live easy."

I laughed at myself after saying it. "See? Even when he was dying, he was still bargaining with me."

Edward didn't laugh.

He looked at me like I was something he badly wanted to understand.

"Charlotte," he said suddenly, serious for once, "teach me. Teach me how to be a real person. A useful one."

"Didn't you do pretty well today, Your Highness? You learned how to bargain."

"Not that." He stood up and looked down at me. "I want to learn how to protect people. The way your husband protected you. The way you protect your son."

I looked up and met those earnest eyes of his, and my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

No, no, no. Charlotte Sinclair, what are you thinking? This kid is three years younger than you and still basically a giant baby. You're here to teach him, not fall for him.

"If Your Highness wants to learn how to protect people, finish tomorrow's lesson first." I lifted the chicken soup and drained it in one go, then shoved the empty bowl back into his hands. "Tomorrow we're going to the docks to move cargo."

"Move cargo?!"

"That's right. If someone doesn't even have the strength, how are they supposed to protect anyone else?"

Edward stood there holding the empty bowl, staring at me in shock.

I turned and went back inside. Once I shut the door and leaned against it, my heart was pounding even faster than when I chopped firewood.

I'm screwed, Charlotte Sinclair. Totally screwed.

A widow with a kid, and your heart is racing because of a nineteen-year-old brat?

Get a grip.