almost instinctively curl around the empty space, wanting to hold on to her longer. And that feels . . . a lot more than friendly.
But then the doors open, and I don’t have time to overthink things anymore.
This is the family’s private drawing room, but it’s still crowded. All those ball gowns and kilts take up a lot of room, I guess, and I feel shaky and sweaty.
Then I hear, “Ah, here she is.”
I’ve never met Flora’s older brother before, but I recognize Prince Alexander as he stands and crosses the room to hug Flora, kissing both her cheeks.
Then he turns to me.
I have a moment of panic. I know I’m supposed to curtsy to the queen, and that means I should probably curtsy to a prince, too, but how deep? Not as deep as I’d curtsy to the queen, right?
I put one foot behind the other, ready to dip, but Alex stops me with a shake of his head and a smile. “No need for that when it’s just family,” he says, reaching out to instead shake my hand.
Flustered, I shake back, then look over at Flora, who’s smiling.
There’s a pretty blonde just behind Alex, and I realize this must be his fiancée, Eleanor. Another American in this mess is kind of nice to see, so I probably give her too big of a smile as I reach out to shake her hand, too.
“Hi, I’m Millie. Amelia. Either, really.”
“Eleanor,” she replies. “Ellie. Either, really, as well.”
Her smile is genuine and warm, and I wonder if I can maybe just spend the entire night talking to her and Alex and not deal with any other royals.
“You’re from Texas, right?” Ellie asks, and I nod.
“Yeah, outside Houston. How did you know that?”
Alex squeezes Ellie’s hand, giving her a small smile. “Ellie makes it her business to know most everything,” he says. “I’d be lost without her, always trying to remember names and who’s from where.”
“You’d be fine,” Ellie tells him, but Flora looks over at me and mouths, No, he wouldn’t.
Is this how it can be here? Just . . . kind of normal? The regular family stuff?
Then I look at the massive paintings on the wall, the fancy weaponry, the suits of armor, and remember that, no, nothing here is normal, and I should probably keep that in mind.
Leaning in close, Alex says to Flora, “Auntie Argie wants to talk to you about something. I’d get that over with as soon as possible if I were you.”
Groaning, Flora rolls her eyes and then turns to me. “Let me go deal with that. You’ll be fine on your own for a few, right?”
I look around at a sea of glittering jewels and champagne glasses. “Oh, yeah,” I say weakly. “Business as usual.”
And then she’s gone in a cloud of silk and expensive perfume, and when I look over to talk to Alex and Ellie, they’re gone, too.
Leaving me just . . . standing there.
“Heeeey, so you have the glazed expression of a person dealing with this whole shebang for the first time.”
I glance over to see a redhead who looks vaguely familiar, and she offers me a macaron on a napkin. “Take it,” she urges. “The sugar will help.”
She’s American, too, and I suddenly remember this is Ellie’s younger sister, Daisy. I guess she’s over for this pre-wedding party, too, and I let her push the treat into my hand, but I don’t eat it, looking out instead at the crowd of people milling around, at all the jewels sparkling in the lamplight. “I did a dinner thing,” I tell her. “Up north. There were fancy people there, but . . . this seems different.”
Nodding, Daisy takes a bite of her own macaron. “Yeah, the Full Palace Experience is something. But hey, you haven’t embarrassed yourself, or caused a fight at a polo match—”
“Or insulted a duchess,” a boy adds, coming up to stand next to Daisy. He’s a little taller than she is, with sandy hair and a face meant for that Prattle magazine Flora likes so much. I’m pretty sure he’s one of Seb’s friends, and, if the way Daisy slips an arm around his waist is any indication, he’s also her boyfriend.
“That was one time,” she tells him, holding up a finger. “One. Uno.”
“Is there a prerequisite for how many aristocrats one has to insult before it can be called ‘an Incident’?” the guy counters, and Daisy looks up, clearly pretending to think it over.
“Three,” she decides. “Three