Part 47. Sharing Room

Jane looked over Tristan. He looked so much younger when happy, stripped of those fake smiles and curt nods. The Prince was so much more, his dark lashes against skin that has only just begun to flush from the sun, a mouth that would be too wide on any other face. The breeze had his hair sticking to his face. It wasn’t fair to her. But life isn't fair, the world isn't fucking fair, and at the very least, she can’t believe that they’ll be staying together for five days on the boat, no destination, no obligations.

&nbs