Page 32 of Throne Off Course

Alexander looked up, incredulous. “What does that even mean?”

Sebastian grinned, his expression brightening. “It means I’d get paid an absurd amount of money to tell people how to dress, where to vacation, and which champagne is actually worth drinking.”

Emilia laughed, the sound escaping before she could contain it. Alexander nodded slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Actually, that does sound plausible.”

Sebastian turned back to Emilia, eyes twinkling with newfound mischief. “And what about our dear prince? What do you think Alexander would do if he weren’t being molded into a future king?”

Emilia pretended to think, tapping her finger against her chin. “Hmm. Something rigid. High standards. No work-life balance.”

Sebastian snapped his fingers, pointing at her in agreement. “Corporate lawyer.”

Alexander glared, straightening the papers in front of him with unnecessary precision. “Absolutely not.”

“No, actually that makes sense,” Emilia interjected, enjoying the rare opportunity to tease Alexander.

Sebastian beamed at her, raising his glass in salute. “Thank you. A woman of impeccable judgment.”

Alexander exhaled sharply, though the tension had left his shoulders. “I should have you both exiled.”

Sebastian lifted his drink, completely unfazed by the threat. “But then who would keep your ego in check?”

And just like that, the air in the room settled—lighter, easier, the weight of duty forgotten, if only for a little while. Emilia found herself smiling despite her best efforts, caught up in their dynamic, the warm afternoon light filtering through the grand windows as laughter echoed in a palace that suddenly felt less like a museum and more like a place where people actually lived.

* * *

The moment Emilia stepped into the apartment, Harper was already on the attack.

“Alright, what happened?”

Emilia blinked, still unwinding her scarf. “What?”

Harper folded her arms, eyes gleaming with suspicion. “You’re doing the thing.”

Emilia shrugged. “What thing?”

“The thing where something ridiculous happens, and you pretend it didn’t. Your face gives you away.”

Emilia dropped onto the couch. “You’re exhausting.”

“But I’m still here. Now spill.”

Emilia hesitated, and Harper’s eyes narrowed like a predator catching the scent of something interesting.

“Oh my God. Was it Alexander?”

“No.” Emilia kicked off her boots. “Well, he was there, but—”

Harper couldn’t suppress a small sound of distaste. “Sebastian.”

A long pause. Then, Harper groaned like she had a migraine coming on. “Oh, for the love of—What did he do?”

Emilia groaned and muffled her face in a couch pillow. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I know he did something, and I need details immediately.” Harper plopped onto the couch beside her. “Did he flirt with you? He totally flirted with you, didn’t he?”

Emilia peeked out from behind the pillow, scowling. “It was hardly a diplomatic incident.”

Harper didn’t look convinced. “Was Alexander in the room?”