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He cuts me off. “Yes, I do, and you should too. She’s being introduced to Parliament next week. Go with her. Be seen together.”
“I can't imagine the Malveauxian Parliament is going to welcome a Ledonian royal with open arms. They were rather negative about your decision not to change the royal succession to include women when you ascended the throne.”
In fact, the government of Malveaux didn't hold back from commenting about how archaic our law had remained. Of course the royal family didn’t comment, because that would have been unseemly and rather unroyal, but it was implied by their silence on the matter that they agreed with their government.
“They will be honored to have you present,” Father replies, either missing my point or ignoring it. It’s not clear which.
I decide to level with him. If he’s not going to listen to reason, perhaps he’ll listen to the fact that the woman hates me, and I strongly suspect she would prefer to spend a night in the old palace dungeon then spend an afternoon with me.
“The thing is, Father, I hardly got off to a flying start with the new princess last night. She’s not what one would term my number one fan.”
“Make her your number one fan.”
So much easier said than done.
The last thing I’m going to tell him is that she was the one who punched me in the face last night. I’m keeping that little gem to myself. As far as he’s concerned, my nose met a waiter’s tray, just as I told Amelia and anyone who’s asked me since. I might not like her, but she doesn’t need that kind of story getting out.
He flips the leather cover closed on his phone and rises to his feet, symbolic that this conversation is well and truly over—and I’ve lost.
“I’ll have more clothes sent to you. You'll be very comfortable here in the rooms on your own for the next few weeks.”
There’s a knock on the door, and before I've even got to it, in bursts Amelia, all enthusiasm and excitement, followed by the entirely more mature and sedate Sofia.
“Alex!” She gives me a squeeze. “I can't believe you get to stay. You're so lucky.”
That depends entirely on your definition of the word “lucky.”
“It’s only because he’s the heir.” Sofia greets our father with a kiss to his cheek. “Hello, Father. Going somewhere?”
“I have a call to make,” Father replies as he leaves the room.
“How's your nose?” Sofia inspects my face. “It seems improved today. You looked quite shocking last night.”
Gingerly, I lift some fingers to my face. My nose is still a little swollen, and I woke more than once in the night as I rolled over and knocked it painfully against my pillow. But I've been assured by the palace doctor that it’s not broken.
Amelia leaps to my defense. “No, he didn't, Sofe. He looked as handsome as ever.”
“You always say nice things about him because he's your favorite,” Sofia accuses.
All Amelia does is shrug because I am her favorite, and we all know it.
Although I'm actually closer to Sofia’s age than Amelia’s, I've always been closer to my little sister. She's so easy to love. She's full of life and happiness and wonder, and now that I'm hurtling headlong into middle age—all right, I'm 26, but still, it’s not very young anymore—I can do with as much positive, life affirming stuff as I can get. Of course I love Sofia as well. Although she’s more serious than both Amelia and me, she has a good heart and I know she would do anything for us.
Then there’s my younger brother, Max. He’s almost as much fun as Amelia, but being five years younger than me, we didn’t spend as much time together when we were growing up as Amelia, Sofia, and I did.
“Did you see that the papers are calling me Rudolph the Red Nosed Prince,” I say and both my sisters laugh.
“That's just too funny,” Amelia says as she sits down onto the sofa next to me.
“Funny but also quite appropriate, don't you think?” Sofia adds with a sly grin. “We're so used to you looking like the dashing Prince Perfect. It’s good to see that you’re human after all.”
“Prince Perfect?” I guffaw. “I get enough name calling in the press without having to endure it at home.”
“Yes, poor you being adored by not just the nation’s press, but the whole world’s,” Sofia says. “They think you’re perfect and I'm boring.”
“It's only because you don't have wild affairs with gorgeous people,” Amelia explains. “Maybe you should try it? You might change everyone's opinion of you as well as have a little bit of fun.”
“That's about as likely as—” Sofia begins.
