The sandwiches had been jostled in the basket and were now reduced to a flattened, unappetizing mess.
“Just give it to me,” said Priscilla, extending her hand expectantly.
Wilhelm hesitated, frowning at the squashed food.
“Must you really make a princess declare she is starving?” she said, her lips forming a playful pout.
Instead of handing her the sandwich, Wilhelm stepped closer.
“What are you doing?” Priscilla instinctively leaned back, eyeing the sandwich he now held near her lips.
“It wouldn’t do for you to get your hands dirty.”
The lake was right there—what was he so concerned about? But her curiosity faded as hunger won out. She took a bite, her gaze locked on Wilhelm, who watched her intently. To her surprise, an odd sense of embarrassment crept in. The simple act of being fed unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite name.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Wilhelm studied her face, concern flickering in his eyes. “Perhaps the rain has given you a fever…”
