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“I know, right? It's not a bad pad. Now, I have something to show you.” I pull the double doors to my walk-in closet open. The lights flick on automatically, illuminating the amazingness of the room, and my best friend gasps in wonderment, just as I did the first time I saw it.
“Shut the front door!” she exclaims. “Is all this yours?”
I nod. “And you get to wear whatever you want today.”
“Are you serious?” she squeals.
“You betcha, babe.”
We spend the next few minutes rifling through my day dresses before Alice hurries us up and Chloe chooses a beige belted dress with puff sleeves and a pleated skirt, which she teams with a pair of multi-colored Doc Marten boots—because she might be wearing a princess dress but she’s still Chloe Sharansky, style queen of her own universe.
As Vladimir escorts us to the royal box, Chloe updates me on all the happenings back home. It feels strange to hear about the antics of my old boss, Denise, listen to Chloe talk about sales targets and marketing plans and all the goings on in the office.
“I get to meet Prince McHottie today, right?” she asks.
“He doesn’t like that name, and anyway, he'll be in the Ledonian royal box opposite us.”
She beams at me. “Which means I get to gaze at him.”
“A cat can look at a queen,” I say. She gives me a blank look. “It’s one of the weird expressions they have here. It means all people should be treated equally no matter their status,” I explain.
“How very democratic of you, princess.” Her voice oozes irony.
We enter the royal Malveauxian enclosure, where I introduce my grandparents to Chloe. She does an elaborate and awkward looking curtsy, complete with arm flourishes.
“It's wonderful to meet a friend of our granddaughter’s,” Grandmama says as we take our seats with the best view of The Games possible. “I imagine you have some stories to tell.”
“Don't stir the pot, Grandmama,” I warn.
“I'll tell you later, Your Queenship,” Chloe replies, making my grandmama smile wickedly despite the incorrect title.
“I'll look forward to it.”
I look around at the scene. Grandstands line the field, full to the brim with eager spectators, and opposite us is the Ledonian royal enclosure. I spot Queen Astrid and King Harald, along with Alex’s sisters, Amelia and Sofia, all dressed in red. I catch Amelia's eye. She waves enthusiastically at me, and I do the same back. I’m excited to get the chance to see her again, and I’d like to know Sofia better, too.
I notice a handsome man to Amelia’s right and throw her a questioning look. She shakes her head and mouths the word, “brother”.
I throw my gaze over him. He must be Max, the youngest sibling who’s been away at college in England. He’s so like Alex, with his dark hair and olive skin and his wide shoulders. He’s clean shaven and looks younger, but still with those Ledonian royal family good looks all four of the siblings have been blessed with, slam dunking that genetic lottery.
Chloe nudges me. “Who’s that?” she asks, pointing.
“That’s the younger brother, Prince Maximilien, aka Max. He’s been at college in England, so I haven’t met him yet.”
“He’s almost as yummy as his brother.”
It’s no contest.
And then I find him. The man I can’t stop thinking about.
Alex is dressed in a navy suit with a white shirt that shows off his smooth skin. He smiles across the field at me, his hand raised in a wave. I beam back at him, my heart squeezing.
“That’s him, that’s him, that’s him!” Chloe squeals.
Alex looks from me to her and mouths the word “Chloe?” I nod and her mouth drops open.
“Wait. He knows who I am?” She looks aghast.
“Of course he does. I’ve told him that you’re visiting and you’re my bestie.”
