Page 8 of King of the Crease

The driver pulls up in front of a blue house with white trim and a wide porch with two rocking chairs covered in snow. A plastic sled leans against the railing. A lopsided snowman guards the front yard.

No gates. No guards. No flag.

Alfred walks ahead of me to scope out the surroundings.

“I thought I only needed security for official palace duties.”

“Your Highness, do you know how easily a crazed assassin could jump out of those bushes and stab you to death?”

“Always looking on the bright side, I see.”

Alfred stands at attention on the porch while I ring the doorbell. The door flies open.

“Nicky!”

Millie tackles me in a hug before I can react, nearly knocking the air from my lungs. Her arms wrap around me like the warmth of a favorite blanket. I see Alfred stiffen in a moment of high alert before smartly coming to his senses.

“You look exhausted,” she announces cheerfully, pulling back. After all these years in the States, most of her posh accent has fallen away. “Come in before you freeze. Don’t mind the dinosaurs. Hi Alfred!”

He nods politely.

“Your Highness, I will wait outside if that’s alright with you,” Alfred says to me.

“Very well, Alfred.”

Inside, a small fleet of plastic triceratops lay directly in the entryway as if patrolling the joint.

“Shoes off please,” she says. I obediently comply. The sugary scent of frosting and candy lingers in the air.

“Coffee?” she asks, merely as a formality. She doesn’t wait for my answer. We stroll into her kitchen straight to the coffeemaker. The fridge is crammed with drawings and worksheets. Random toys litter nearly every surface.

I take a seat at the kitchen table and gently move aside a half-finished gingerbread house. Large windows look out on a peaceful, snowy backyard that backs up against the woods. It was as if Millie opened a page of the Christmas LL Bean catalogue, and said Yep that’s the one. I’ll take that life please. Wrap it up to go, will you?

“So what are you doing in New York again? What’s your official palace business?” she asks with mock seriousness.

“This and that. Meetings, dinners, special appearances.” I lack the mental energy to go into further detail. They all blend together.

“Sounds specific,” she deadpans.

Millie brings over two cups of coffee in large, Charlie Brown Christmas-themed mugs.

“Millie.” Relief washes over me. “It’s good to see you.”

I met Millie Hobbs back when she was Millie Kim, a rebellious teenager who’d wanted to hit up every club across Europe and spend her summers rotting on yachts in the Mediterranean. The daughter of a Korean shipping magnate, she was my closest friend at boarding school. By a stroke of luck, we found each other early, and she took me under her wing. She was sharp where I was careful, loud where I was restrained, and completely unimpressed by titles even at fourteen.

Now, instead of hitting up clubs and yachts, she’s making gingerbread houses with her three kids and presiding over a battalion of dinosaur soldiers. While at university, she’d met a charming American who was studying abroad. Unlike me, she had no problem telling her parents she was marrying him and moving to the States. Originally, she and Adam had lived in Manhattan and worked in consulting. Eight years ago, when their oldest son was born, they ditched the fast city life for Adam’s hometown. He took over his family’s Christmas tree farm, and Millie became a stay-at-home mom to three boys. I thought the whole transition would be jarring, but somehow this small-town life fits her like a glove.

I made it a nonnegotiable with my staff that I visit her every time I visited New York.

“How’s the coffee?” she asks. Even while wearing leggings, an oversized sweater, and her hair in a messy bun, she’s still gorgeous and radiates class.

“It’s great. Thank you.”

“Adam’s on a French mocha java kick, and I’m along for the ride.” She practically hums sipping her coffee. “First things first, did you hear Calista McTiernan is getting divorced?”

“Again?”

“I guess third time wasn’t a charm.” Millie smiles as she sips her coffee.