“Yes! Well, officially there would be some created job or title to have,” Granny said. “Officially you would be a diplomatic attaché, or something along those lines to keep the boring stiffs happy. Unofficially, but in every way that matters, you would be his consort. But let me and Gustav worry about that, dear boy. All you have to worry about is charming the trousers off of King Omar.” She chuckled again.
“I…I see.”
“No need to thank me, just get the job done,” Granny said. “Now, let’s celebrate. I have a bottle of liqueur I’ve been dying to open. We’ll toast to your success!”
“Um, yes. Thank you, Granny.” Francis didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t asked for this at all, but Granny had a point. He wasn’t happy here, and he needed to meet new men.
Why not try to charm a king?
Chapter 2
Francis stayed for supper with Granny so they could finish their plotting.
He asked her if King Omar had extended an invitation to Francis personally, or if it had all been left in the hands of aides.
Granny informed him that Gustav had been in close personal contact with the king’s most senior private secretary, a fellow named Yusuf.
Apparently, Yusuf was approving the guests and making the matches himself.
“So the guests will be a surprise to King Omar?” Francis asked.
“No, dear,” Granny said. “The king has seen portraits of each invited guest. Same as you have seen his.”
“He’s seen my portrait? Which one?” Francis asked.
“I had copies made of the miniature I keep on my desk,” Granny informed him, making Francis groan softly.
“Granny, that portrait is so old,” he protested. “I was twenty when it was painted. I had a threadbare moustache and hardly any sideburns to speak of. I look like a baby.”
“Nonsense!” Granny scoffed, sticking her silver fork into a piece of venison. “You looked like a handsome young man, and it obviously did the trick, because you got approved for the guest list.”
“I look different now, Granny.”
“No, you don’t.” She glanced at him as she popped the meat in her mouth. “Better facial hair. More jawline,” she said, chewing. “Otherwise, still the same. Lucky you have all your hair! Need I remind you, your uncle Klaus was half bald by twenty-six! That’s another good reason not to wait. Those looks won’t last forever, dear.”
Francis inhaled deeply before replying dutifully, “Yes,Granny.”
There was no use arguing.
“Do you think the king’s portrait is recent?” he asked.
“Irrelevant!” Granny scoffed. “He is a king, and he has important resources. You will treat him as if he is the most attractive man in the known world, come what may. I don’t care if you get there and find out he’s grown a second head. You will charm him and outshine the others.”
Francis was a third son and a middle child. He had two younger sisters, and his eldest brother was king. Outshining others wasn’t in Francis’s wheelhouse.
“I’ll try my best, Granny.”
“And speaking of outshining,” Granny added, “don’t you dare invite Lady Holstein-Kiel on this trip. I know the two of you are thick as thieves, but that woman outshines you. Take someone quieter and with a sense of decorum. A wallflower.”
Francis fell quiet.
He could see Granny’s point, but he liked Gretchen Holstein-Kiel for exactly those reasons: she was boisterous and loud, and she made everyone laugh with her incredible wit. It made social engagements easier on Francis, who was a wallflower himself.
“I suppose I could ask Maddie,” he replied. “Lady Madeleine de Villiers. She’s French but she’s lived here for years with her husband and their children. She’s very demure.”
Granny nodded. “Good. And you can take Archie with you. He knows how to behave himself.”
Archie could be rather raucous at the right party, but Francis kept that fact to himself.
