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“Wonderful,” Alice exclaims.
I liked her from the moment I met her and since then, we've become friends. I know she's my servant and not appropriate for me to be besties with yadda yadda yadda—thank you, Grandmama—but she's also only a year younger than me and she likes a lot of the same music and movies and books as me. We've bonded, and I've needed it. With Dad now back home in Houston, I need all the friends I can get here in Malveaux.
“Sitting and standing now checked off the list. What's next, peeps?”
“Next is your appointment with Princess Amelia of Ledonia to meet the royal peacocks, ma’am,” Vlad informs me.
I grin at the thought of seeing Amelia again. I so liked her when we met at the ball, despite her despicable brother.
Not that I’m going to think about Prince McArrogant Alexander. That guy is dead to me and I for one am ecstatic that he’s now left the country for Ledonia, where I hope he stays for the next 70 or so years.
“Maddie, remember?” I say to Vlad. “Alice uses it. You can, too.”
“Maddie,” he repeats.
“Now, when I meet these peacocks, do I shake their wings or is it more appropriate for me to smooch them on their beaks?” I ask solemnly.
Alice suppresses a giggle. Vlad presses his lips together.
“I'm only kidding, you guys,” I reassure.
“You will observe them. Simple as that,” Vlad replies.
I nod. “Observe. Got it.”
“Might I suggest you comment on their beauty as well? After all, they are the symbol of our country, after which the Malveauxian blue was developed,” he adds.
“Comment on their beauty. Got it,” I say. “Let's go meet me some peacocks.”
I charge from the room, knowing Vladimir will be frowning at me. We’ve got a kind of father-daughter thing going on. He tells me what to do, I tease him about it, and, eventually, I do it.
Between him and Alice, and the way in which my grandparents are so eager to relate to me and make me feel at home, my time in Malveaux has been much less daunting than I’d anticipated. It might be too soon to tell, but coming here to meet everyone and see how it feels to be a princess has been the right call. I’d even go so far as to say that I’m glad I’m here.
Later, on a walk through the palace grounds, we meet a group of people wearing rubber boots, who greet me with curtsies and bows.
I may have been a princess for a few days now, but I still cannot get used to that part. I feel like one of my grandparents must be lurking behind me and they're all greeting them, not this brand-new princess who has next to no clue about anything—other than sitting. I’ve got that nailed.
“It's great to meet y’all,” I say with a smile. “Should I be in rubber boots, too?”
“By rubber boots do you mean wellingtons?” the gamekeeper, who introduced himself as Ralph, asks.
I point at his feet. “Those.”
“Naturally,” he replies as he gestures for a woman to step forward and present me with a pair of blue royal monogrammed—what else?—rubber boots, which I sink my feet into, grateful to be rid of the pumps Grandmama insists I wear for my princess lessons.
“Okay, I’m ready to meet the birds,” I announce.
“We’re waiting on the representative of the Ledonian royal family,” Ralph instructs.
“Princess Amelia. Right. It’ll be so nice to see her again.”
“Princess Amelia? No, miss.” He looks over my shoulder. “Ah, here he is.”
Wait. He?
It can't be. The universe isn't that mean.
I turn to see the smug prince of all things flirty and rude himself, sauntering toward me with the same confidence and swagger he had at the ball last night.
