The prince snorted, shoved his hands in his own pockets, and ambled forward. “I grew tired of your embarrassing and endless trail of trinkets everywhere you go. Stones you carry, letters, filthy leaves you find pretty...morsels for the bat…” He shook his head. “I instructed Anne to ensure all your gowns have them. Now you won’t leave a mess in your wake.” He gestured to her skirts. “Pockets.”
This IS true love
