This was ridiculous.I was a grown woman who had kissed men before.I shouldn't be lying in bed replaying every detail like a teenager after prom.But here I was, remembering the way he'd smiled against my mouth when I'd made that embarrassing sound.The heat of his palm against my lower back.The way he'd looked at me before walking away, like leaving was the hardest thing he'd done all day.
"Get it together, Betty," I muttered into the expensive pillow."You have princess things to do today."
The smile wouldn't go away.
A knock on my door interrupted what I was generously calling reflection.
"Come in."
Carmela entered carrying a schedule in one hand, her expression professionally neutral except for a knowing glint in her eyes.Palace gossip, I was learning, traveled faster than light.
"Good morning, Your Highness.I hope you slept well."
"Like a rock.What's on the agenda?"
"Etiquette lesson with Madame Delacroix at ten, wardrobe fitting at noon for your new formal pieces, Italian tutoring at two, and tonight there's a reception for the Danish trade delegation."
"That sounds manageable.What's the catch?"
"No catch, Your Highness."Carmela paused, and her professional mask slipped just slightly."Though I should mention that the Prince has requested to escort you to tonight's reception personally."
I tried to keep my expression neutral.From the way Carmela's lips twitched, I failed spectacularly."Did he say why?"
"He mentioned something about ensuring you're comfortable."She was definitely suppressing a smile now."The staff has also noticed that His Highness seems to be in an unusually good mood this morning.He was humming in the breakfast room."
"Humming?"
"The Prince doesn't hum, Your Highness.It's been the subject of considerable discussion below stairs."
The image hit me: a roomful of palace staff in their crisp uniforms, analyzing Archie's breakfast humming like intelligence officers decoding enemy transmissions.I pressed my lips together, fighting to keep a straight face.
"We had a nice dinner last night," I said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere around transparent."Maybe he just enjoyed the food."
"Of course, Your Highness.The food."
Her tone made clear she wasn't buying that for a second.
The etiquette lesson took place in a ballroom on the palace's west wing, a cavernous space of gilded mirrors and frescoed ceilings.Cherubs cavorted overhead, frozen in paint for centuries, watching with rosy cheeks as I attempted to master the art of the curtsy.The parquet floor was polished to such a shine that I could see my own uncertain reflection staring back at me with each dip and rise.
Madame Delacroix circled me like a particularly elegant shark."Chin up.Back straight.You're greeting a duchess, not searching for dropped coins."
I adjusted, and she gave a grudging nod."Better.Again."
We worked through the entire European diplomatic hierarchy, from grand duchesses to minor baronesses, and I managed to complete the sequence without falling over or looking like I was having a seizure.Progress, by Madame Delacroix's exacting standards.
"Your deportment is improving," she said, which from her was practically a standing ovation."We may make a proper princess of you yet."
"I live to exceed your expectations."
"Don't get cocky, Your Highness.Tonight's reception will require sustained elegance for several hours.One successful curtsy does not a princess make."
"Noted.Sustained elegance.No premature celebration."
I was halfway to my wardrobe fitting, navigating corridors I was finally beginning to recognize, when I nearly collided with Archie coming around a corner.
We both stopped short.
He was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, no jacket, his hair slightly less perfect than usual, as if he'd been running his hands through it.The informality was jarring in a palace where everyone else seemed pressed and polished at all hours.It made him look younger.More real.
