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While most of our conversations have been brief over the years, he’s always been polite and kind. Maybe a bit boring, but I brush that off due to the circumstances of our surroundings each time we’ve been together. He doesn’t ogle me the way other men sometimes do, despite knowing that our arrangement is on the horizon. He could’ve made a move on me many times over the last few years, and yet he’s always kept a respectable distance and maintained eye contact strictly above my decolletage.

I smooth my hands down the front of my dress as the sweeping hills come into view. Perched high on the peak, it’s one of the oldest universities in Doriella, located just outside of its largest city, Ashrya. Which is also where I’ve lived since I graduated from the all-girls university on the opposite side of the city last year.

Not only is Ashrya home to the Caulfield Palace, but also three other royal residences, occupied by members of the royal family.

Precisely why my parents chose the location of my flat.

The car tires crunch against scattered gravel as we pull up. Sunshine dips behind the large buildings, eclipsed by the old brick structures. Ivy twists up the sides, covering the dark reds in green and making them appear much less intimidating. The main building boasts beautiful stained-glass windows backlit by the sun, sending a flurry of color to the pavement.

Tuition here costs more than most families make in a year, which makes being here today all the more important.

We slow to a stop in front of the small stone steps leading up to an imposing double doorway of the main building. A petite woman clutching a clipboard like it’s her lifeline steps to the front of the walk and peers into the window of the car.

I reach for the handle, but Annabeth clears her throat. “Allow me,” she says. She’s out of the car and swinging my door open before I have a chance to protest.

Although, I guess I should get used to this way of things.

I give her a small smile as I slip both feet onto the pavement and stand. “Thank you, Annabeth.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Penner. I’ll be waiting to take you home when the event concludes.”

I step aside so she can shut the door, before she gets back in and drives away to a parking lot in the distance. I suddenly feel so exposed standing here, and I resist the urge to fiddle with the ends of my hair as I turn to the woman waiting eagerly for me.

“Juliette, I presume?” I ask, extending my hand.

Her handshake is weaker than Annabeth’s, but twice as enthusiastic. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, thank you for being here today, Miss Penner. We’re so excited for you to be joining us.” Her short auburn hair bobs with each wild shake of our hands.

“Briar, please.” Ms. Penner is my mother, and while she’s big on formalities, I’d prefer to be on a first name basis with the people I’ll be working with.

Juliette gives a sharp nod. “Briar it is. Lovely name. Shall we step inside to go over some of the details for today’s event? The rest of the team is inside waiting. You’re the first to arrive”—she checks her watch—“but we may as well head inside if that’s alright with you,” she rambles without taking a breath.

So Lockwood isn’t here yet. That would explain the lack of activity from the gaggle of photographers across the drive. They’re contained by a few ropes that create a small pen for them to gather. Sort of a fitting look.

Noticing where my attention has drifted, Juliette says, “They won’t be in your way. They’re all contracted privately and personally by the Crown. But with a face like yours, I don’t think you’ll have to worry bout them catching you at a wrong angle.”

“You’d be surprised by some of the photos I have from nights out at the pubs while I was in university,” I tease, then quickly clamp my lips shut. That was inappropriate. Why the hell would I say something like that?

And yet the humorous tilt of Juliette’s full mouth squashes most of the regret. “I’d give you a run for your money. Anyways, we’ve been working with Prince Lockwood’s secretary to ensure details like the press are carefully outlined as we begin. I know you both are here on behalf of your families, and to help fundraise, but I’m also well aware of the perception both parties are looking for in exchange.”

I bristle at the boldness of her speaking out loud the very thing that is usually left unsaid. She’s not wrong, but saying it like that makes it sound… dirty. “I can only speak on my behalf, but I⁠—”

My words are swallowed up by the sound of multiple engines approaching. Three black cars, similar to the one I arrived in, pull up in front of us, and it’s as if they’ve triggered a bomb. In a moment, the cameras that were so idly sitting by across the way come rushing over with little regard for the ropes meant to cage them in.

They flood the space around the cars, scrambling over one another and jostling elbows into colleagues’ faces with little regard for any potential bruising. Juliette steps forward, a deep frown etched on her face as she begins barking at them to back off.

But her orders are drowned out by the overlapping voices and shouted questions as the rear door of the middle car swings open. Mania ensues and I realize far too late that I’m standing too close to the sidewalk. Suddenly I’m swept up in the frenzy.

The onslaught of shutters clicking and flashes blinding sends me staggering back a step, and my heel catches in a crack in the pavement. I’m going to fall flat on my butt in front of all these photographers. In front of Lockwood⁠—

A strong grip catches me, stopping my fall and saving my composure. Or what’s left of it. But the surprise of flashes, unlike anything I’ve experienced before, is nothing compared to the shock I get when my eyes adjust to the blinding lights to see who’s holding my arm. Keeping me steady.

The crushing weight of cobalt eyes peer down at me with a playful glint as they size me up.

The prince holding me isn’t the one I expected to see here today.

You’re not Lockwood.

“Sorry to disappoint, Princess.”