Page 28 of The Royal Art of Revenge

Full regalia, indeed.

I don’t even know what the names are of what he’s wearing, but I know one thing: he looks every bit the prince that seven-year-old me dreamt of. Not even Disney themselves could create a figure so dashingly regal, and here I am, looking at him.

Perhaps he should be illegal.

With those looks, he’s certainly halfway to killing someone.

God only knows even my cold heart has stuttered at the sight of him.

“Your Royal Highness.” Sophia bows her head. “I was about to send someone to get you.”

“No worries,” he replies, never taking his eyes off me. “I was keeping an eye out for our guest anyway. Mostly to see that shocked face of hers.”

“She doesn’t look very shocked,” the man behind him says, peering around his shoulder. “More like she wants to hit you.”

“Shut up, Oscar,” Crown Prince Finley mutters, still looking at me. “I’m sorry for the secrecy, Miss Porter.”

I shake my head, partially for him, and partially to pull myself together. Now is not the time to be enamoured by a man in full royal regalia, Harriet.

Plenty of time for that once I’ve convinced him to marry me.

“Please, don’t be. I understand completely, Your Royal Highness,” I reply, also lowering my head slightly. “Although, I am afraid I’m not quite ready to start yet. We were just setting up.”

“So I can see,” he says. “However, who better to check lighting with than the subject himself?”

“You have a point.” I pause. “In that case, would you mind if I boss you around and make you change positions for the next ten minutes so I can get my bearings?”

His lips twitch up, and his bright blue eyes twinkle with something like that looks a little bit as though he wouldn’t mind at all. “It’s not often I get bossed around. Go wild.”

“You get bossed around,” the other man says. “You just don’t listen.”

Crown Prince Finley sighs as he sits in the chair one of the younger guys just vacated. “Don’t listen to him. Miss Porter, this is my aide, Oscar, the future Duke of Lindberg. Oscar, this is Miss Hannah Porter.”

Oscar approaches me with his hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Porter. Your work is beautiful.”

“Likewise, Lord Lindberg.” I shake his hand. “And thank you, I’m glad you think so.”

“Don’t mind him,” Crown Prince Finley says, staring at him. “He’ll be in the corner. Working.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but nods his head at me and takes off to the corner with Sophia and opens his laptop at a table.

I spend the next ten minutes playing with the lighting, then excuse myself to set all my equipment up. The bigger items are already here, so it’s merely a matter of arranging my laptop and other smaller things.

“These are the kind of photos we’re aiming for,” Oscar says when I’m done, showing me a small selection of photographs on his phone. “We have around ninety minutes from now blocked off for this. Do you think it’s achievable?”

“Absolutely. How many photos do you intend to release?”

“Two to three on the occasion, preferably like these.” He brings up the most important ones. “But we’d like some extras to be released in the future.”

“That’s no problem. If everyone is ready, we can get started now.”

A chorus of agreement comes from everyone in the room, and I turn to Crown Prince Finley.

“Please stand over there. We’ll get the most formal ones out of the way first.”

He nods and goes to the corner I motioned, and with the help of Aaron—or James—I move the equipment and get myself situated.

Then, I begin the process of photographing the most sickeningly photogenic man I’ve ever met in my life.