It had been just over thirteen years since he had let himself really truly feel love, just over thirteen years since he’d lost his mother. He had been shy of fifteen when he closed his heart, after seeing how wrong love could go he refused to let himself go through it himself. Now with his father dead he took on the role of Duke of Winchester at twenty-eight years of age. He hadn’t shed a single tear for the bastard, not when he told him he was sick, not when he was dying, not even when he stuck him in the damn ground. He would never shed a single tear for the bastard who had destroyed his mother, torn his family apart, ruined what was left of his childhood.
He dated sure, but he don’t let himself become attached, he wouldn’t let himself be torn apart like his mother had been. He couldn’t do anything for her, to save her, but he could save himself from the same fate.
It wasn’t until he was nearing twenty-nine that he had felt that maybe he could love, be loved again. She was twenty-five and from Italy, long raven locks, flowing in the wind when he first met her. Her bright green eyes shining, her olive skin, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. He thought she lit the fire within. They had lasted four months before she broke things off, any progress made on his broken heart seemed to be undone.
When he was thirty-three he decided he would no longer guard his heart, he would open his heart and try to be open to love. Every woman he dated was nice, but there was never a spark, never once did he think she could be the one.
He was starting to think maybe he wasn’t worthy of love, that maybe his mother had been trying to escape him as much as his father. He tried to put those thoughts out of his head, but why was he never good enough? Why did he never feel anything for any of the women he dated? And it not like he dated a ton, most men he knew that remained single as long as he had would have a list of conquests a mile long, but he didn’t. He was respectful and rarely dated even when he had opened his heart to love once again.
He was starting to believe it would just never happen for him, that he was just destined to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. Sure he could have courted a woman of noble birth, many fathers had come to him over the years, he had good standing, and would make a good match. But if he was to get married he didn’t want to be seen as a stepping stool for someone’s family, he wanted to marry for love.
Having decided he would never find what he was seeking he started to guard his heart once again. Imagine his surprise when all the protective barriers he had place upon his heart came crashing down when he saw sitting broken and alone at the bar. He felt drawn to her, wanted to do whatever it took to make her smile. All he wanted was to see him smile, he felt like a teen again, confused thoughts and feelings running through his body.
She looked so perfect, even with a sad and broken look on her face, her blonde hair and fair skin. He found himself sitting there just watching her, trying to decide how to approach her, this sad and broken doll. The king had broken her and he would do anything he could to make her smile once again.
