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“Heavens! Why ever not?”
“Don’t tell our parents.”
She crosses her heart. “Promise.”
“I’m…ready.”
“Ready?”
“To you know, find The One.”
She reels back from me. “As in fall in love and get married?”
“Amelia,” I warn.
“Sorry, Alex, it’s just so very not you.”
I shrug. “It’s the new me.”
She lets out a low whistle. “Any luck finding this elusive woman?”
“Sadly, no.” I think of Freya and many others like her. “The women of the world seem only interested in the fact that I’m a prince.”
Amelia pushes her lower lip out. “Poor Alex. Adored by many, loved by few.”
“Not helping.”
She rubs my arm. “I’m only messing around. I think it’s fabulous that you want to fall in love. I’ve got the most splendid idea! I could be your wingman.”
I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Please? It could be so fun looking for your queen. Oh, I know! The new princess. She’s gorgeous. She would be perfect for you.”
“The American?” I scoff, barely believing my sister could think such a thing. “That would be a hard no.”
“Don’t dismiss her outright, brother. You haven’t even met her. When do you think they're going to present her?”
“I'm sure she'll have chosen a very dramatic moment so we all sit up and pay attention.”
She pokes me in the ribs. “What happened to make you so cynical?”
“Why, I was born into the royal family of Ledonia.”
She lets out a laugh. “By that assessment I should be cynical too, and I'm not in the least.”
“You're also only just out of nappies. There's plenty of time for you to become cynical, believe me.”
“Just out of nappies? Alex, I'm 22,” she protests, even though we both know I'm only winding her up. It's a lot more fun with Sofia. She takes the bait every time, whereas Amelia and I seem to share the same sense of humor and know innately when one is teasing the other. Which we do constantly.
If it wasn't for my darling younger sister, life would be a whole lot more boring .
“Your sash is skew-whiff. Hold this and I’ll fix it.” She passes me her glass and sets to work on straightening the blue satin sash that runs diagonally across my Ledonian red jacket from my shoulder to my waist.
“What on earth are you drinking?” Mummy asks as she and Sofia appear at our side. “And you have two of them? Alex.”
“Crazy party animal that he is, Alex spiked our drinks with orange cordial,” Amelia explains tongue-in-cheek as she takes her glass back. “It's so much better. Want some?”
“It's also a potential headline,” Mummy grumbles.
