My Cynical Prince - Marian Tee Page 0,3

of its few downsides, however, was having to deal with irate guests like the one before him: a six-foot-plus European prince whose icy rage had Garth bathed in cold sweat despite the island's sweltering heat.

"What the fuck do you mean I'm unable to leave the island?"

Garth cleared his throat. “I am very sorry, sir – I mean, Your Highness. There is truly no way to book an unscheduled ferry ride from St. Roch, and air travel has been indefinitely suspended due to weather forecasts."

The prince didn’t say a word, but his blazing hazel eyes spoke volumes. If St. Roch had been under the jurisdiction of Ethereal, the kingdom which Prince Julian Rivera came from, Garth was fairly certain his head would have been on a platter by now.

More seconds trickled by, and Garth pulled on his collar again.

The prince was still gazing at him, dangerously quiet. He was one of the most ridiculously good-looking men Garth had ever seen, and he had seen his fair share with the world’s rich and famous constantly flocking to the island. But Prince Julian was in a league of his own. Shiny black hair, a perfectly chiseled face, a bronze tan, and a powerful body that made him look like he had been trained to wield a sword rather than a scepter.

No wonder women all over the world flocked to him, Garth thought, suitably awed by the prince’s, well, sheer awesomeness. Those looks alone would make women lust after him. Add the fact that he was a prince to one of the wealthiest kingdoms in Europe, and Garth could easily believe a recent news report that the Prince received millions of love letters each day. In fact, one employee of the kingdom said that if all the pages of love letters written by the prince’s admirers were to be recycled, then they would have been enough to print an entire year’s supply of textbooks for Ethereal’s schoolchildren.

"Very well."

The Prince's clipped tone had Garth snapping out of his thoughts.

"You will at least inform me when I am permitted—-" So much ice dripped from this last word that Garth had to keep his teeth from chattering. "—-to fly out of the island. You can at least do that, can you...Garth?"

Garth could only manage a sickly nod. The Prince knew his name, and the only reason the Prince was letting him know this was all too clear.

His head on that much-dreaded silver platter, if Prince Julian were to think Garth wasn't doing all he could to help him off the island.

SUMMER WAS ALWAYS GOOD for business in St. Roch, Sunny, a plump widow in her thirties, thought contentedly. The island was always packed with tourists, and both men and women tended to be in the mood to fall in love. That, of course, meant brisk sales for her floral shop. Her roses were one of a kind, a variety only found in St. Roch, and she made sure her sellers mentioned that fact whenever male customers came to buy bouquets for their ladyloves.

“I’m done for the day, Sunny.”

Seated behind the cashier, Sunny looked up to see eighteen-year-old Cassandra Baker stepping out of the greenhouse, which was built as an extension at the back of the shop. Young Cass was her garland maker, a blind girl with amazing talent for making wreaths and garlands.

Cass turned towards her direction after dumping the gloves into the bin. “I’ve done about thirty-something wreaths for today. Is that enough for the luau tomorrow or do you need extras?”

“That brings your weekly total to close to almost two hundred. That should be more than enough,” Sunny answered.

Even though Cass had been working at the shop for over two years, Sunny still couldn’t help but feel impressed at how, well, capable Cass was, in spite of her handicap. If not for the somewhat vague, glassy look in her eyes that indicated her blindness, everything about Cass appeared normal at first glance. She never bumped into things, never asked for assistance, and there was not one instance Sunny ever heard the younger woman express bitterness or regret about her condition.

She was an incredible girl, and that, Sunny thought with a quiet sigh, was probably why Cass was usually targeted by catty bitches. Men so easily fell in love with Cass’ bright, can’t-get-me-down disposition, but the girl never seemed to notice, and this, of course, only made the women hate her more.

"You're feeling bad for me again, Sunny."

The older woman made a face. "How many times