Page 6 of The Backup Princess

I snort laugh at the thought of Chloe being anybody’s chaperone, let alone mine. She's the one who’s always trying to get me to go dancing and drink shots. She’d be a horrible, horrible chaperone.

Chloe nudges me.

“She is my…err, chaperone,” I tell the men.

“We'll have to clear the area. Everyone but her goes,” Undertaker #2 says.

“But I want to stay and see what happens,” Eric protests, and his knight armor loses some of its gleam.

Eric and Terrence are ushered from the room, and as the door swings shut behind them, Chloe folds her arms and glares at the undertakers. “Okay, scary looking dudes. Spill.”

Undertaker #1 pulls his brows together in confusion.

“She means explain,” I clarify, certain, despite their proficiency, that English is their second language.

He clears his throat and shoots me a meaningful look. “It is my responsibility as a representative of the Crown of Malveaux—” he begins.

“Crown of Mal-what-now?” Chloe interrupts.

But it all begins to fall into place for me.

Malveaux. The country of my mother’s birth. The country she left to marry my dad.

The country where she was a princess.

“—to inform you that your presence is required at the Royal Court with immediate effect.”

“The Royal Court?” Chloe chortles. “Mads, this is hilarious.”

“Why?” I ask, my heart doing double time.

“With the expected abdication of Prince Nicolas, you have become the next heir to the Kingdom of Malveaux by right of your royal birth.”

The ground beneath my feet turns to quicksand.

I’m now the heir to the Malveauxian throne?

Chloe barks out a laugh. “These guys are good!” She flicks her eyes to mine, only for her expression to drop. “Mads?”

“I’m kind of a…princess. Kind of. Not official or anything,” I say with the reluctance of a cat taking a bath.

“Wait, what?”

“My mom was a princess before she left Malveaux to marry my dad. But there was no way I was going to ever actually be a princess, let alone the heir to the throne.” I glance at the Undertakers, who I now realize are in fact royal security. “This is…unexpected.”

My parents chose to raise me as a regular American girl, away from all things royal back in Europe. I might know I’m a princess on paper, but it’s never meant anything.

Until right now.

Chloe pulls back from me, her eyes the size of soccer balls. “No. Freaking. Way. You're a real-life princess?”

I shrug, although I know it to be true.

“Wait. Does this mean you’re Prince Alexander's sister?”

“Prince Alexander?” I ask, feeling like I’m not quite in my body anymore. Why is she talking about him?

Undertaker #1 ignores Chloe. “I’m sorry to tell you, ma’am, but time is of the essence.”

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