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As his mother began working in the kitchen, he pulled out a chair for Dani at the small table in the corner.
“Royals! They’re just like us!” Dani said, a bemused look on her face.
“Pardon?”
“A feature from an entertainment magazine in the States where they catch celebrities doing things like pumping gas in their car or drinking a Venti Vanilla Bean Crème Frappuccino from Starbucks or, horrors, grocery shopping.”
“From your tone I can tell you’ve been spotlighted in this feature and you didn’t like it.”
“Whether I like it or not is irrelevant. It sells.”
He understood that sentiment far too well.
“They wouldn’t do stories like that here. Not aboutmyfamily.”
“Why not?”
“Because everyone is invested in usnotbeing normal. It’s part of our unofficial contract with the public. We remain on a slightly elevated pedestal, high enough for them to look up to us, but not so high that we’re seen as unsympathetic or unlikable.”
Divots furrowed Dani’s brow.
Too much, Jameson. She doesn’t want to hear your poor little royal boy screed.
Forcing a carefree smile, he said, “But that’s never stopped my mother. No one can keep her out of the kitchen. She’s always been that way.”
“He’s right,” Calanthe said. “It’s the reason he’s managed to live a relatively normal life. Unlike his spoiled aunts and uncle.”
“Mother!” he said. He cleared his throat and attempted to get their conversation back on track. “How was the South of France?”
“Marvelous, as usual. The weather was superb and the company...” A becoming flush tinged her cheeks. “But don’t change the subject. Are you sure you want to do this celebration?”
What choice did he have?
“It’s not as dire as you’re making it out to be. She wanted to do something to honor Grandfather. She knows how close we were and thought I’d want to be a part of it.”
His mother eyed him sharply. “She also knows how much you hate being in the public eye.”
“You do?” Dani asked.
“Ever since he was a little boy. One time he went on a volunteer mission to Chile with Bettina and some of his distant cousins and the Palace had set up a press conference on their return. You should’ve seen him. A tall, gangly teenager. So serious. A hint of what he’d become. His expression was so clear that he felt it was all a waste of his time.”
“Really?”
“It’s true.” Calanthe spotted the basket of scones on the counter. “What are these?”
Dani stood. “You don’t want those.”
“Maybe I do.”
“Margery didn’t make them. We did.”
“We?Jameson... baked?”
“He surprised me by setting up a scene fromThe Great UK Baking Championshipon the estate!”
Calanthe slid him a look. “Did he?”
He yearned to extinguish the knowing expression on his mother’s face.
