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The last thing I want to do is get into the male appendage conversation with my sister.
“You have my word I'll do whatever I can to change that when I eventually ascend to the throne,” I say earnestly.
“By then I'll already be married off to some inbred noble with no chin,” she scoffs.
I laugh. “Why no chin?”
“Because that’s just my luck,” she grumps. “But seriously, thanks. You're all right, Alex.”
That's quite sentimental coming from her, and I can't help but be touched. Sofia isn't exactly known for her soft side. I suppose it's because she's the first-born, driven to succeed in whatever she does.
Only the thing she wants to do, she can't.
It must be hard.
I spot Princess Madeline treading toward me. She’s wearing an odd combination of a silk dress and a pair of grubby sneakers. She notices me and comes to an immediate stop, turns on her heel, and begins to stomp away in the opposite direction.
I watch her leave, my eyes skimming across her receding figure. She’s definitely beautiful, with her small waist that makes the womanly curve of her hips so much more pronounced. Her brunette hair is long and wavy, and when she wears it down like she is today, it frames her beautiful face perfectly.
Utterly against my will, I feel a stirring in my belly. I recognize it in an instant as attraction.
Not helpful.
“Sofe, I've got to go and make friends with the American,” I say.
“You'll need to stop calling her that if you have any hopes of making inroads with her, you know.”
“Princess Madeline. Is that better?”
“How about just Madeline?”
I think of the nickname I gave her when we first met. Texas. She seemed to hate it.
“Madeline. Fine.”
“I'm sure you’ll weave your magic and she'll be your dear friend in no time. She's probably half in love with you already. Isn't that what happens to women around you? They fall blindingly in love?”
Considering Madeline just spotted me and turned to walk the other way, I would say that's a highly unlikely outcome.
“I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply.”
“Suit yourself, but your reputation precedes you.”
“Goodbye, Much Older Sister.”
“Goodbye, Prince of Broken Hearts Brother.”
I stride after Madeline, my long legs a clear advantage in this cat and mouse chase.
When I reach her, she gives me the side eye.
“What?” she snaps.
“Don't let anyone tell you you've got good manners,” I reply with what I hope is a winning smile.
She ignores the jibe. “What do you want, Alexander?”
“To spend some time with you on this lovely day.” Because you’re so thoroughly charming, I want to add.
