Page 12 of Throne Off Course

“Oh, and let’s not forget,” Emilia went on, voice rising as theflush crept up her neck again, “he thought I was going to be starstruck. He seriously thought I was just going to fall at his feet.”

Harper tilted her head, studying Emilia over the rim of her mug. “Well, to be fair, you do love history.”

“Yes, but I do not love royalty.” Emilia’s fingers drummed an agitated pattern against the tabletop.

“Tell that to your face when you’re reading about tragic royal romances at 2 a.m.,” Harper countered, the corner of her mouth lifting.

Emilia glared, her eyes narrowing. “That is research.”

Harper leaned back in her chair with satisfaction. “If you say so, Emmy.”

Emilia ignored her and pressed on, her voice dropping to a frustrated whisper as a barista passed by with a tray of pastries. “The worst part? We have to work together for months and he is going to make it absolute hell.”

Harper leaned on her hand, looking far too entertained as she traced the rim of her mug. “Oh, Emmy. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Emilia stared, momentarily speechless. “To you?”

Harper grinned, revealing the dimple in her left cheek. “Yes. Because now I get to watch you, the unshakable Emilia Carter, lose your entire mind over some tragically attractive prince who already managed to get under your skin before you even properly met.”

Emilia grabbed a napkin and threw it at her. “I am not losing my mind.”

Harper dodged it effortlessly, the paper fluttering to the floor. “Of course not. You’re completely unaffected. That’s why yourentire soul is on fire right now.”

Emilia crossed her arms, slumping back in her chair. “I hate you.”

Harper beamed, reaching across to squeeze Emilia’s wrist affectionately. “Babe, you love me.”

Emilia groaned, dropping her head onto the table with a soft thud. The cold surface felt soothing against her forehead.

Harper took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “You know, if he’s really as awful as you say, I could write a brutal hit piece on him. ‘Prince Alexander: Stiff, Arrogant, Clueless About Merit, and a Blight Upon Historical Accuracy.’”

Emilia lifted her head slightly, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Tempting.”

“I could add a quote from an anonymous palace insider,” Harper wiggled her eyebrows dramatically. “Maybe something about him being ‘a tyrant in tailored suits who wouldn’t recognize actual merit if it slapped him in his royal face’?”

Emilia rolled her eyes, finally reaching for her cooling coffee. “I cannot believe you call yourself a serious journalist.”

Harper shrugged, brushing a crumb from the sleeve of her cardigan. “Serious journalism is subjective.”

Emilia huffed a laugh despite herself, taking her first sip of coffee. The rich bitterness matched her mood perfectly. This was going to be a long, long project.

8

Charm is Dead (And Alexander Killed It)

After their disaster of a first meeting, Lord Davenport had pulled Alexander aside.

“Your Highness, I don’t feel the need to attend further meetings,” he’d said with diplomatic caution. “I’ll update the Queen that you have the situation under control.” The slight pause before “control” had not gone unnoticed.

Alexander had wanted to protest. He wanted to remind Davenport that his presence served as a much-needed buffer, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

Left to handle the infuriating Miss Carter himself. Wonderful.

He’d spent half the night reviewing the exhibition plans, determined to counter her every argument with historical precedent.

Now, as he strode into the archives, intent on arriving first and taking control of the conversation, he realized with mild irritation that he had already failed.

Because Emilia Carter was already there.