The Princess and the Pauper

Chapter 51

Romeo sat down next to Arabella, holding her hand tightly and handing her the menu. “What would

you like to eat?” Arabella took a gander at the menu, picked a few dishes haphazardly, Romeo padded

the order with a bunch more. As the manager ducked out of the room, Arabella arched an eyebrow,

“Mind letting go now?”

Romeo asked demurely and seriously, “Can we hold it a little longer? Just for a moment… It’s a sight

for sore eyes during the day too, I’ll bring you here next time, alright?”

Arabella stayed mum. After a beat, the manager waltzed in with a few chefs, dishes in tow.

At lunch today, Romeo had taken note of the dishes Arabella didn’t touch, and the ones she seemed to

fancy, so he had a rough idea of her taste and ordered accordingly.

“All this grub, you think you can polish it off?” Arabella eyed the spread, a good twenty dishes laid out

before them.

“Slow and steady.” Romeo’s one hand was still holding hers, the other serving her dishes.

“Can I have my hand back now?”

If he didn’t let go, she wouldn’t be able to eat!

Romeo smoothly let go of her right hand, only to deftly snag her left one.

Arabella was speechless.

“Are you sure we’re eating like this?” Arabella was not used to this arrangement.

“Yup.”

“Romeo, I think we need to rap.”

“Let’s finish eating first.” Romeo peeled a shrimp perfectly, picking it up and presenting it to her,

“Wanna try?”

“Just leave it here, I’ll eat it myself.”

Seeing her start to talk, Romeo popped the shrimp right into her mouth.

Arabella shot him a warning look, but Romeo didn’t get ruffled. He looked back at her with a soft gaze,

“How is it?”

“Yuck!”

The foreign chef nearby nearly had a heart attack, stuttering in broken English, “Which dish didn’t suit

your palate? Just say the word, I’ll fix it right away.”

“I was talking about the person, not the food.”

The foreign chef was a tad confused, unsure what she was on about.

“You guys can scram.” Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Once Romeo spoke, the chefs and the manager beat a hasty retreat, practically fleeing the scene.

“Pissed?” Romeo looked at the girl before him tenderly, “I guess I got ahead of myself.”

“Can you sit across from me?”

In other words, can you give me some space?

“I wanna sit with you.”

Faced with Romeo’s earnest expression, Arabella was at a loss for words.

Finally, they finished eating, the lights in the restaurant dimmed, the ceiling opened up, revealing the

beautiful night sky.

Back when Attlee and Olga were still trying to get their business off the ground, they barely made it

home, always hustling. It was Grace who kept her company through those sleepless nights.

The countryside back then was just as star–studded as now.

But the people and events of the past are now but distant memories.

A violinist took his position in a corner of the room and started playing some romantic tunes.

As the music faded, the night sky lit up with brilliant fireworks. Arabella looked up at the display, while

Romeo kept his gaze fixed on her.