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“I’m honored.”

“Don’t be. It’s not for you. It’s for all this.” He gestures around the ballroom. “Always have wanted an invite to the center of British royalty.”

“Such a charmer.” I punch him lightly on the arm. “I know you love me.”

“Saskia.”

I groan as Xan comes into view, a deep scowl scoring his forehead, his fiery gaze locked on Donovan.

“At least I don’t have to worry about you sniffing around my sister anymore.”

Donovan, usually genial, fires an equally scorching glare at Xan. “You never did. Not that I ever could quite get that through your thick skull. Saskia and I have no interest in each other outside of being friends.”

The two men engage in a stare off for a few seconds. Unusually, it’s my brother who breaks first. “Luis is looking for you.”

“Run along, princess.” Donovan winks.

I check no one is looking, then flip him off.

He laughs. “Unbecoming of royalty, Saskia.”

“Leave her the fuck alone,” Xan growls.

I roll my eyes. Those two have been at each other’s throats as long as I can remember. I bet if I asked them, they wouldn’t even recall what it was they fell out about in the first place. According to Nicholas, they were friends before Mum and Annabel died, and for a few years afterward. In their early twenties, they fell out and they’ve sniped at each other ever since.

Luis is standing with his father and sister. As I approach, he holds out his hand for me to take and greets me with a beaming smile.

“There you are.”

“Xan said you were looking for me.”

“Yes. The Queen of Denmark would like to meet you. Excuse us, Father.”

The next two hours are a whirlwind of talking to dignitaries and royalty and trying to remember to curtsey to the right people. I lost Luis about an hour ago, and since then I’ve been riding solo, trying not to mess up by blurting out an ill-advised “fuck”. It’s harder than it looks when my brothers use it as a verb.

It’s too much. I need a break. A quiet moment to regroup.

Leaving the ballroom behind, I make my way down the hallway until the voices fade and silence follows. Thank God. I love a party, but as outgoing as I am, sometimes even I crave a quiet moment in the middle of the chaos. Once I’m alone, I pause, resting my head against the wall and closing my eyes.

The moment alone doesn’t last long. The sound of a deep male voice coming toward me threatens my peace. I look left and right. Nowhere in sight yet. Good. I stride across the hall and enter another gigantic room filled with sofas, chairs, and yet more paintings. I’m about to sit on one of the sofas and maybe take a twenty-minute nap when the door handle turns.

Shit.

Whoever it is, I’m not in the mood for conversation with even more strangers. I know this is the life I’ve signed up for, but Luis reassured me we’d ease into it, and I won’t be expected to carry out any unaccompanied royal duties for at least a year.

There’s another door behind me. I dart for it, slipping through in the nick of time. Except it’s not a way out. It’s a storage cupboard. Goddammit. Now I’ll have to wait it out until whoever just came in leaves. Maybe, like me, they’re looking for a few minutes of peace.

“Alone at last,” the man I heard approaching in the hallway says. His voice is vaguely familiar, but I’ve spoken to so many people tonight, it’s impossible to isolate a single voice.

“Thank God. Come here.”

My jaw drops. Now, that is a voice I recognize. All too well.

It’s a risk. Then again, I’m not one to shy away from taking risks. I open the door a crack. Somehow, and if I live to be ninety, I will never know how I swallow the gasp that threatens to blow my cover.

Luis, my fucking fiancé, is snogging someone else. And not just anyone. I recognize him now. It’s Giles, his private secretary.

Luis and Giles.