“It makes me think of you not wearing it.” It made me want to rip it off of her and see all of her beauty underneath it, and with the way she held on to me and kissed me, she wanted me to do it too.
“Gale,” she muttered as I kissed down the side of her face, down to her neck. “Gale, we can’t. It’s bad luck.”
“Ugh.” I groaned as if she had poured cold water over me. “They’ve gotten to you, too, with these superstitions.”
“The queen believes it—”
“Now, you bring up my mother.” I pouted, lifting my head to look at her. “You truly do wish to kill the mood here.”
“Forgive me,” she replied, pouting back. “But I was clearly and specifically told while still in bed the last time that until we are married, there can be no seducing of any kind from either of us.”
“Good thing we are already married—”
“Shh.” She put her hand over my mouth quickly, her eyes wide.
Rolling my eyes, I nodded so she would uncover my mouth, and when she did, I quickly kissed her lips. “Fine, stand there, and torment me then.”
“Good, I will.” She beamed, and by God, it was beautiful. Her smile didn’t just make me smile—it made my heart beat faster.
“You are seducing me again.”
She gaped. “What? How?”
I shook my head, taking her hand instead. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
“How princely of you,” she said, squeezing my hand.
Damn it, why couldn’t I stop smiling?
I love her, my mind answered. I loved her a lot more than I thought.
The Morning Eagle
Tuesday, June 19
“Secret Affair!”
Prince Galahad met with his rumored old flame, Sabina Franziska, for dinner.
Prince Galahad is apparently tired of Odette Wyntor’s spoiled demands and welcomed a meeting with Prime Minister Ivan S. Hermenegild to have dinner with Sabina Franziska.
Witnesses at the dinner say the pair disappeared to speak privately with one another during the evening.
The Morning Eagle
Wednesday, June 20
“Palace at War!”
The feud between Sophia De Loutherbergh, Dowager Duchess of Elmburgh, and Odette Wyntor escalates as they both apparently cannot stand each other.
Sophia De Loutherbergh is fed up with the heiress's spoiled behavior and breaches of protocol.
Meanwhile, Odette Wyntor has a strong desire to Americanize the royal family (yet she still isn’t on good terms with her own family).
How will they be able to give the commencement this year?
Chapter 22
“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?”
“About a thousand and one?” I replied, needing a deep breath because even though I was in bed and didn’t have to deal with it until tomorrow morning, just thinking about it now made me sick. “Mom, you know how I am about public speaking.”
“Honey, you’ve sung in front of crowds of thousands all the time,” she said while dabbing her face mask on with her pinky finger. I could even see the chef behind her preparing something in the kitchen—it was nice to see some things never changed. “You will be fine.”
“Mom, I don’t sing all the time. I rarely did, remember? That was my whole issue, but it’s one thing to sing songs I wrote in English even if I did. My biggest worry isn’t just speaking; what happens if I speak and say something wrong? I don’t know what’s worse, having a panic attack and running off the stage or speaking and no one understanding me because my Ersovian is so bad.”
“I would say running off the stage is worse, sweetheart. They will forgive you for messing up—”
“No, they won’t, and you know it!”
“Yep, you’re right. If you mess up, they will never let you live it down. So, how about throwing in the towel now, break up with Gale, come home so we can have facials, yogurt, and movie night like always.”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“You are not helping!”
“No one can help you!” she snapped back, shaking her head.
I pouted but then stopped because all I could see was “spoiled heiress” on the cover of newspapers.
“Odette, my sweet, either you will fail, or you will not. If you fail, it will suck, but it will not be the end of the world. Nor will it be the end of you and Gale. Unless you think he will dump you because you mispronounced a word or two. Or three. Four.”
“You’ve made your point,” I complained, shifting to lay farther into the pillows. “I know he won’t dump me. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to make it harder