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“I can wait here for you, if you like, or I can go up the steps with you. Totally your choice.”
I glance out at the crowd. There’s got to be at least a couple hundred people here, maybe more, from nosy passers-by to photographers and journalists.
I know to be the sort of princess I want to be—poised, together, involved in a whole bunch of worthy causes, able to be an ambassador for Malveaux—I need to get comfortable with crowds, the paparazzi, all of it.
And besides, as far as romantic gestures go—which is what this has definitely begun to feel like—this is easily in the top three I’ve ever experienced.
Okay, the top one.
I haven’t had a huge number of romantic gestures sent my way.
“They already know you’re in the car, so it’d be weird if you stayed here.”
“There is that,” he replies.
“Come with me.” I press the button to lower the screen. “Okay, Vlad. I’m ready to get out there. With Alex.”
Vlad’s eyes flick briefly to Alex. “If you’re sure, ma’am?”
“I’m as sure as the bluebonnets in spring,” I reply, using one of my dad’s favorite expressions.
Both men shoot me a quizzical look.
“It means I’m positive,” I explain.
Vlad exits the car and opens the back door. Alexander climbs out and then turns back and offers me his hand like a dashing prince. I do my best imitation of a poised princess myself, swinging both legs stuck together like they're glued out and onto the sidewalk.
The crowd erupts into a frenzy of camera flashes and cheers and people calling our names.
I let go of Alexander’s hand and wave at the people. The crowd parts like the Red Sea as we climb the stone hospital steps, side-by-side.
“What is your relationship to the new princess, Alexander?” someone calls out.
“Are you dating?” comes another voice.
“You two look great together, are you a new thing?”
“Don't answer them, Texas,” Alexander instructs.
“I wasn't planning on it.”
At the top of the steps, Alexander says, “I usually give them a smile and a wave to keep them happy. Do you want to do that?”
“Sure thing.”
We turn and wave and smile at everybody, the practiced royal and the newbie. The crowd goes crazy.
Alexander pushes the door open and steps back for me. “After you.”
As the door closes behind us, the sounds of the cameras and people dull, and I let out a relieved sigh, suddenly giddy.
“That was actually quite fun,” I exclaim.
Alex grins at me. “You did well, Texas.”
“I did, didn't I? Thank you.”
“All part of the service,” he tells me with a wink that makes my belly do a little flip.
