The Artist's Muse: Theron Royalty, #2

By Kirsten Osbourne

Prince Theodore, the younger son of King Albert of Theron, loves to paint. He uses his art to transform his thoughts and channels everything he is into his paintings. When a beautiful woman emerges from several of his paintings, he knows he needs to find her—whomever she may be.

 

Nicole Winters owns an art gallery in the capital city of Theron. There she encourages new and experienced artists alike. When the prince comes into her gallery, she is taken aback, but happy to show his work, as he's made quite a name for himself in the art world.

 

Theodore knows he wants to marry Nicole, but she doesn't like the idea of a life in the public eye.

 

Will Theodore be able to convince Nicole that a life together is what they both need? Or will his public life keep them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unlimited Dreams
• Release date: Jan 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223334149

Book preview

Chapter One

Prince Theodore of Theron swept through the capital’s bustling streets with a purpose that matched his royal stride. Clad in casual attire, yet still exuding an air of nobility, he was on a quest that many would call him crazy for. He was looking for the woman he’d fallen in love with...through his painting and a canvas.

She was no duchess or baroness, but a face in the crowd that had captured his artistic soul. Now, he sought her in reality, combing through the heart of his kingdom for a stranger who had unwittingly become his muse.

As he approached the familiar patisserie, whose scents of fresh bread and sweet confections permeated the morning air, he steeled himself for the inevitable. The bell above the door chimed his arrival, announcing the presence of royalty.

Your Highness! cooed a chorus of female voices. A bevy of young women, each more eager than the last, clustered around him, their smartphones held aloft ready to snap a picture of his ready smile.

Would you grace us with a photo, Prince Theodore? one asked, her eyes aglow with the thrill of proximity to the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor.

Of course, he replied, the practiced smile of public charm gracing his lips as he obliged them. The flash of cameras punctuated the bakery like the flashes of paparazzi, though here, he was amongst his people, safe from the ravenous media.

Thank you, Your Highness! You’re so much more handsome in person! another exclaimed, her cheeks turning the shade of the raspberry tarts on display.

Theodore nodded graciously, but his mind was elsewhere, scanning the room over the heads of his admirers. He searched for a glimpse of slate-colored irises, the unique hue that he had committed to memory and canvas. His gaze flitted from face to face: hopeful, expectant, but ultimately unfulfilled.

Is there anything special you’re looking for today, Your Highness? the baker inquired, noting the prince’s distracted air.

Something very special indeed, Theodore murmured, more to himself than to the inquisitive crowd. I would like one of your croissants with honey and butter. He’d had croissants from the small bakery many times in his life. I’ll take it to go. He had no desire to be fawned over as he ate.

After paying for his treat, he gave a final nod to the gathering, and he excused himself. The crisp autumn air greeted him as he stepped back onto the cobbled streets.

His search continued, driven by a yearning that was both uncharacteristic and unsettling. This was not the pursuit of a prince destined to rule, but of a man ensnared by the elusive promise of a connection that defied status and protocol.

Today, however, the capital city of Theron remained a labyrinth with no end, its pathways leading him ever onward, but never to her.

Theodore’s footsteps echoed softly as he crossed the threshold into a quaint cafe, its walls adorned with local artwork and the aroma of hearty broth wafting through the air. He removed his gloves with a practiced ease, placing them gently beside him as he seated himself at a corner table. The murmurs in the room hushed for a breath, only to swell again with discreet excitement.

Your Highness, the waitress curtsied slightly, her cheeks flushed with restrained enthusiasm. What can I get for you today?

Just a bowl of your tomato basil soup, thank you, Theodore replied, offering a courteous smile. As she nodded and departed, he observed the other patrons, hearing snatches of conversations, and the quiet clink of spoons against bowls, but no gray eyes met his.

Excuse me, Prince Theodore? A tentative voice reached him from a table nearby. He turned to see a young woman holding out her phone, her hand quivering ever so slightly. Could I... could we take a photo together?

Of course, Theodore obliged without hesitation, rising from his seat. He leaned in slightly, granting her a gracious smile as the camera captured the moment. Returning to his solitude, he couldn’t help but muse on the nature of such requests. They were never about duty or the weight of a crown; they were always lighthearted, seeking the warmth of his playful reputation.

The soup arrived, steam curling upward like a dance, and Theodore thanked the waitress with a polite nod. As he savored the rich flavors, he allowed his thoughts to wander. It occurred to him that perhaps it was the very absence of responsibility that drew these women to him instead of James. To be seen with the fun prince, the charming rogue—it was a dalliance free from the inherent burdens of queendom.

Somehow he’d always been the more popular prince, but now that his brother was married, he was more sought after than ever.

Your brother is quite the statesman, an older gentleman at a neighboring table commented. But you, sir, you bring joy to the people.

Theodore chuckled softly, acknowledging the truth in the stranger’s words. One must play the role assigned to him, he said.

Ah, but even beneath the mask, Your Highness, you have a heart for the people, the gentleman raised his teacup in a subtle salute. That cannot be feigned.

Thank you, Theodore responded, touched by the sincerity of the observation. As he finished his meal, the laughter and snapshots of his public persona felt like a mask he wore in public. And behind the mirthful mask lay a longing for the understanding of one very special woman.

With a final spoonful, he pushed the bowl aside, his appetite for both food and this fruitless quest momentarily sated. Rising, he left payment on the table—a few extra coins for the waitress’s trouble—and stepped back into the bustling city, where the whispers of his name followed him everywhere.

Theodore emerged from the quaint warmth of the café and continued down the cobblestone streets of Theron. He resumed his stroll with a sense of purpose yet weighed by an undercurrent of resignation.

Prince Theodore! a young woman called out as she hastened her steps to catch up with him, her eyes alight with excitement. May I have a picture with you?

Of course, he said, flashing his most charming smile as he obliged her request, though his gaze swiftly resumed its hunt. With each click of the camera shutter, he scanned the sea of faces drifting past him, searching for that singular pair of stormy gray eyes that haunted his dreams.

Thank you, Your Highness! You’re so much more handsome in person! the woman gushed, clutching her phone to her chest.

Flattery will get you everywhere, he quipped, though his heart wasn’t in the jest. He moved on, threading through the crowd, his royal bearing parting the people in his path.

Arriving at the main park of the city, Theodore paused at its entrance, taking in the sight of the park in fall. Professionals lounged on benches, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves; children danced around the fountain, their innocent joy untainted by courtly intrigue.

Prince Theodore, over here! A group of young office workers waved him over to their picnic blanket.

May we be graced with your presence, Your Highness? one asked.

Only for a moment, he replied, accepting the invitation with a gracious nod.

Is it true that you’ve traveled to every continent? a man inquired, sandwich in hand.

I have, Theodore answered, his attention subtly flitting from face to face, his spirit undeterred by the elusive nature of his quest. Well, every continent but Antarctica, which is a place only for penguins. But no view compares to the vitality of Theron’s.

Spoken like a true prince, another praised. Theodore’s focus momentarily caught on a pair of laughing eyes across the way, only to sigh inwardly when they revealed themselves to be of a common brown, not the rare gray he sought.

Your Highness, you must tell us about your grandest adventure! a woman urged.

Ah, my grandest adventure remains unwritten, he mused. His eyes continued their vigil, darting from one person to another, forever hopeful and perpetually disappointed.

Your modesty is as renowned as your valor, the man chuckled.

Modesty, perhaps, Theodore allowed himself a small smile, but my valor has yet to be truly tested.

And as the lunch hour waned, so did the prince’s resolve. The park’s many faces blurred into a tableau of missed connections, none belonging to the woman who had unknowingly captured his heart with a mere glance. With a courteous bow, he excused himself from the company of the picnickers.

Until we meet again, Prince Theodore, they called after him.

Indeed, he whispered to himself. Until we meet again.

Theodore stepped into the whimsical chaos of Mr. Pendleton’s Toy Emporium, a place where childhood dreams were encased in glass and wood. The air was thick with the scent of varnish and the laughter of children. Bells jingled above the door, announcing his presence like a herald. His eyes swept the room, not for toys, but for those elusive gray orbs that haunted him.

Your Highness! Mr. Pendleton himself, a rotund man with a bushy mustache, emerged from behind a shelf of intricately painted soldier figurines. What an honor! To what do we owe this pleasure?

Good afternoon, Mr. Pendleton, Theodore replied with practiced affability. I’m merely perusing your collection.

Ah, perhaps a gift for a niece or nephew? Pendleton suggested, his eyes twinkling.

Not yet, but hopefully soon, the prince said. He knew the entire nation was waiting for his brother James and his wife, Amanda, to announce the impending arrival of the next generation of Theron royalty. Theodore focused his attention on the patrons—a mother herding two boisterous boys, and a young couple cooing over stuffed bears.

Your Highness, if I may be so bold, Mr. Pendleton ventured, the rocking horses over there are a new import. Quite magnificent.

Thank you, I shall take a look. Theodore obliged, his gait slow as he passed by rows of dolls with porcelain faces, none of which mirrored the visage he sought. His heart seemed to rock back and forth just as the vacant horses did, swaying between hope and despondency.

In the corner of the store, a little girl giggled as she hugged a rag doll, and for a fleeting moment, Theodore imagined a similar sound emanating from the woman he yearned for. He shook the thought away. Charming toys, indeed, Mr. Pendleton, he commented.

Thank you, sir. We strive for nothing less than enchantment.

Enchantment... Theodore echoed softly, pivoting on his heel, departing the emporium with a nod.

Next, he found himself before the vibrant display of Mrs. Linton’s Candy Shop. The saccharine aroma enveloped him as he pushed open the door, causing a tinkling melody to fill the small space. Jars of colorful confections lined the walls, their contents shimmering like jewels under the soft lighting.

Prince Theodore! Mrs. Linton exclaimed. What a delightful surprise!

Mrs. Linton, he greeted her. I trust business is sweet?

Always, especially when you visit, she chirped, flitting about the counter. Perhaps some chocolate truffles? Or maybe our famed peppermint sticks?

Perhaps. Theodore’s gaze lingered on a jar of silver-wrapped candies. I would like a kilogram of these. He would give them to everyone in the palace. He had no taste for sweets. He only wanted to find the woman who haunted him.

I’ll get that ready right away. Would you like anything else? she asked.

Thank you. Theodore smiled, though it failed to reach his eyes. That will be all for today.

Of course, sir. Do come again.

He nodded, stepping out onto the street where life flowed around