Page 24 of Royally Rivalled

After I hung up, I raced down the hall to Amara’s room to tell her the news. She was sprawled on the couch watching what I lovingly referred to as “Scandinavian Murder Porn“ with Ole. No one did murder like the Scandinavians. One of the weird parts of having a Scandinavian prince move into your house was this desire to watch Murder Porn of an evening. Rick gravitated towards it forcomfort. Lundhavians had a very dark sense of humour. You usually found him on the couch, Alexandra’s feet in his lap every night. She’d be reading while he watched this stuff. I plopped on the sofa by Amara. This was helping my homesickness already.

“What is going on, darling?” Amara sensed I had something to say.

I answered excitedly, “I’m going to the Neandia State Banquet! Her Majesty requested my attendance!”

Amara squealed. Ole stared and told us to shut the fuck up in his mother tongue.

“I’m going! Mum is out of town, and Dad is taking me! We’ll have so much fun! Do you have a dress?”

“No. Do you?”

“No! Sounds like an excuse to shop! What are you doing tomorrow?”

I sighed. “Model UN. I decided to become a graduate mentor. It’s stupid, but my grandmother never let me do extracurriculars. I always wanted to be a part of it. So, I’m helping out.”

“Aww, that’s cute.” Amara smiled. “You have anything on Monday?”

“I’m working on a short essay, but I could do that on the train,” I said.

“Brilliant. Monday, let’s go buy ridiculous dresses!”

We had a plan. Nothing could stop us, right?

fifteen

PARKER

Model UN was a life pursuit.As a youth at boarding school, my MUN mates were the only people who did not bully me. I’d been a tall, lanky, and awkward teenager. In MUN, I was a star. Many of our students were first-years trying to find their own nerdy homes. MUN meant fellowship and kindred spirits. Every year I volunteered for our opening event of the season. It did bring me joy to watch students strategise and come alive.

The first to arrive at the Shalebrook Invitational, I checked on the situation with our arrival table. I was fully prepared with a 60-ounce thermos of tea, plenty of digestives, and journal articles to read in slow periods. I’d prepped the prompts for the conference and waited for students to arrive.

I spotted Princess Astrid walking down the corridor with what I assumed was tea and a very expensive tote on her shoulder—a different one than the Hermes she’d brought to class. She was outfitted in a suit today, looking smart. Was she joining the undergrads?

She stopped at the table. “Oh… uh… I’m helping with the MUN thing.”

“So amI,” I said, voice flat.

Damn it!She’d managed to infiltrate our ranks and my favourite activity.

She set her bag down with a thud. “How can I help?”

“We need to put up all the banners and lay out the table runner,” I said. “Get ready for check-in. The MUN president will tell us what else they need.”

“Cool,” she said.

There was little hatred in her voice. I was prepared to drop it, start a new leaf, and try to behave myself at the very least.

“Can you manage the walk?” I asked.

“Why?”

“You’re in heels.”

Astrid burst out laughing. I didn’t understand why that was funny.

“I wasbornto walk in them properly. Don’t fret!”

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes.

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