Page 20 of Jasmine's Enchanted Genie

Charles frowned at Viscar. “Allow me to introduce you to Prince Boshun Maxime Antoine Fabien Baudelaire.”

With a gulp, Viscar tugged out his list, his finger stilling partway down. His face darkened, and his gaze shot to the floor. “I’m terribly sorry, my prince. I didn’t recognize you.”

“Don’t be concerned. It’s a simple mistake.” Boshun held out his arm to me. “If you’ll be so kind as to accompany me, my lady. I believe the first event is a game on the southern lawn. We can dine and then join the activities.” He glanced at his manservant. “Thank you, Charles. Viscar. Both of you should go enjoy yourselves with the other staff. I’m sure Lady Bains and I will be able to take care of our needs until it’s time to dress for tonight’s dinner and then the ball.”

Charles bowed and hurried back down the hallway. Viscar looked ready to collapse against the wall.

Once we were out of his view, I gaped up at Boshun. “Prince?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Very well.” I fluffed my gown. “Thank you. This is lovely.”

“You’re lovely. You make the gown, not the other way around.”

My heart fluttered in my chest.

We reached the grand staircase that swept down three levels to the foyer. “What’s going to happen when the royal family realizes you’re not a prince, let alone an invited guest?”

“What makes you think I’m not invited?”

“Ah, magic.”

We started down the stairs.

“You don’t mind that I set things up to make sure I’m accepted by your side, do you?” he asked, watching my face instead of the stairs we treaded on.

“Not at all.” I was already beginning to depend on him. No, I longed to be with him all the time, and that worried me. What if he didn’t feel the same way?

We reached the ground floor and walked among others milling about in the parlor.

“I believe we should have breakfast before we join in on the first event,” he said in a lofty tone. “Don’t you, Lady Jasmine?”

Before I could tell him I was no lady, he swept me from the parlor, down a wide hall, and into a huge dining room with seating for at least a hundred people. Guests sat in their finery, chatting and eating.

As Boshun led me around to the other side of the table, a hush fell over the room.

The king—the actual king! —rose and smiled Boshun’s way. “Prince Baudelaire. How wonderful to see you again. I don’t believe we had a chance to speak last night, and I’m sorely disappointed.”

“King Tricar. It’s amazing to see you again, as always,” Boshun said. “Perhaps we can catch up later? I have to admit, I’m enchanted by Lady Jasmine, and nothing could pull me away from her side.”

“Of course. I look forward to it.” The king sat and started speaking to the queen—the queen! —sitting to his right.

Boshun pulled out a chair and waved to it grandly. “My Lady? Please.”

I wasn’t sure what to do, but a subtle twitch of his head suggested I sit, so I did.

A servant hurried over to stand behind us as Boshun dropped into the seat next to mine. “What can I get you, my prince. Lady?” he asked.

“Oh, uh . . .” I hated fumbling. I hated feeling as if I was completely out of place even more.

“Bring us a selection of pastries and breakfast meats,” Boshun said grandly. “Will that do, my lady?”

“Yes, that sounds . . . delightful.”

“Tea as well?” the servant asked, bowing deeply again.

“Yes, a pot would be nice,” Boshun said.

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