Wishful thinking, probably, but Nina had always been an incurable optimist.
“This party is getting wild,” Marshall observed, an eyebrow lifted. “Is that King Zog trying to do a handstand?”
“I can’t tell if it’s a handstand or a cartwheel, but either way he needs to be careful. Those Albanian pants are extremely loose.”
Marshall laughed and reached for Sam’s hand, twining his fingers in her own. She loved that about him—how readily he reached for her hand, as if he was only content when some part of his skin was touching hers.
She loved him, more than she loved her title. And with that knowledge her mind was made up.
“Let’s walk,” Sam murmured. Marshall followed as she moved through the gardens, pausing at a fountain here, a hedge of roses there. This wasn’t the palace she’d grown up in, yet she felt a touch of nostalgia, telling it goodbye.
Sam drew to a halt before an enormous stone sundial, its surface covered in etched lines. A metal triangle, carved in the shape of a bird’s wing, rose from its center. “Do you know what phase the moon is in?” she asked, glancing upward.
Marshall looked up at the sky. “Um…not full?”
“This sundial calculates time in thirty different ways, even at night. But you have to know the phase of the moon.”
“I think checking the time on my phone would be faster,” Marshall pointed out.
Sam stepped forward to touch the sundial’s faceted surface. She was surprised to find that it was still warm, radiating the sunlight it had soaked up all day.
“This was actually a gift from Queen Victoria. She sent her sons here—all four of them, one after another—to propose to Princess Frances.”
“Which one did Frances marry?”
“None of them,” Sam told him. “She flat-out refused, told her parents that she wouldn’t be shipped off to England like a parcel. Her brother George ended up marrying Victoria’s granddaughter Alice, so America and Britain got the alliance they wanted.” Sam traced the Roman numerals carved on the sundial’s surface. “Sometimes I wonder what Frances was thinking. If she ever felt confused about the point of it all.”
“The point of what?”
“Of being a princess.”
Marshall leaned forward, bracing his palms against the edge of the sundial. “I’m usually good at reading between the lines when you go all history nerd on me, but right now I’m confused.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking, and maybe…maybe I don’t need to be a princess anymore.”
“What?”
“I could give it up. Renounce my position in the order of succession.”
Marshall stared at her in dumbfounded shock. The ocean crashed in the distance, a low rumble beneath the laughter and voices of the party, the soft chirping of insects.
“I talked to Aunt Margaret tonight. And to Beatrice,” Sam explained. “Marshall, so much about this situation is blatantly unfair, not the least of which is the fact that we laid the whole burden on you. We assumed that if you and I stayed together,youwere the one who would eventually have to renounce your title.”
“Of course we did,” he said slowly. “That was implicit, because you’re the princess. I’m just a future duke.”
“Why was it implicit? It shouldn’t be.”
Marshall took a step back, voice hoarse. “I can’t let you run away from your life because of me. That’s—that’s unprecedented!”
“I don’t think of it as running away. More like I’m runningtowardsomething better.” He was still shaking his head, so Sam tried another approach. “And it’s not unprecedented. Have you heard of Prince Franz?”
“Who?”
“He ran away from his royal responsibilities too. He was a Prince of Flanders back in the thirties who renounced his titles and moved to Hawaii.”
“Sam…,” Marshall said slowly, but she talked over him.
“I’m not saying we have to do anything yet. But when the time comes, I can be the one to de-princess-ify myself,” she told him, trying to elicit a smile. “Then there won’t be any obstacles to us being together. I can move to Orange, be a duchess, the whole nine yards. I’m actually pretty good at shaking hands, opening museum exhibits, headlining charity events. In all honesty,” she added, half teasing, “good luck finding another woman in America who’s as well trained for the job.”