When Queen Isabelle offers me a deal to fake an engagement with the Crown Prince, my first instinct is to laugh. I must be hallucinating-blame it on the tea. But as her words sink in, I realize the potential boost this could bring to my tech company...
"Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." - Helen Keller
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Another morning, another run. Except this time, I had a shadow—a living, breathing, six-foot-tall British shadow named Arthur. My newly assigned guard had apparently decided that if I was going to go on a run, he'd be right there, playing my unwanted running partner. It wasn't just a suggestion either; the guy was determined to hover over me like a particularly well-dressed hawk. And as much as I tried to ignore him, I couldn't help but feel a little... crowded. Sure, I appreciated the dedication, but if I'm honest, the man had the subtlety of a bulldozer in a china shop.
My mind raced faster than my feet. I'd barely processed the whirlwind of this morning's statement release—damage control, always fun—before my brain skipped ahead to the lessons I had with Lady Evelyn later today. Etiquette. Grace. The proper way to be royal adjacent. Riveting stuff. At least the product launch was out of the way, and with Deepti holding down the fort back home and Michael stepping up to help, I actually had some breathing room. Not that "breathing room" ever felt real when your life was under a microscope.
Post-shower, I stared at my reflection, my curls air-drying into what could only be described as a fluffy halo of chaos. Well, there was no time to wrangle them into submission. The doorbell rang, jolting me from my hair crisis. Alex. Of course, he'd be early. The future king of England, and he had the nerve to be punctual. The TV was already set up for our video call, but now I had an actual prince standing at my hotel door. What exactly does one do to prepare for that? A quick prayer? Tea and crumpets?
I yanked on a "casual but not too casual" outfit and took a deep breath as I moved to the door. It wasn't nerves exactly... Okay, fine, maybe it was a little bit of nerves. My life had turned into a royal circus, and I was walking a tightrope in front of the entire world.
When I opened the door, there he was, standing with that infuriatingly charming smile of his, holding a small bouquet of flowers. Of course. Flowers. Roses.
"Good morning, Nia," Alex said, his voice as smooth as the damn blooms in his hand.
"Good morning, Prince Alexander," I quipped, stepping aside to let him in. "You're early. Didn't anyone ever tell you to let a girl get at least one cup of coffee before you knock on her door?"
"I'm an early riser," he replied, not missing a beat. He handed me the flowers, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I thought these would make up for my punctuality. And for the record, I should have brought them yesterday at the launch, but I was a bit... occupied."
I raised an eyebrow, taking the bouquet. "Busy dodging paparazzi or busy dodging me?"
His chuckle was low and lazy, like he wasn't taking the bait. "A bit of both."
Setting the flowers on the table, I crossed my arms, trying to channel my best nonchalant vibe. "So... are you ready to meet the parents?"
He leaned back slightly, hands in his pockets, that signature royal confidence oozing from every pore. "As ready as a crown prince can be," he said, his tone light but laced with the kind of arrogance that came naturally to him. He flashed me a grin, the kind of grin that said, I've dealt with Parliament, the Queen, and international scandals—your parents? Easy.
