Page 1 of A Royal Mistake
1
Philippa Stanley stifleda yawn as His Serene Highness,PrinceDominik-I-have-so-many-names-no-one-could-possibly-be-expected-to-remember-them-all, prattled on about some royal banquet or another the House of Liechtenstein would host in the fall. It sounded dreadfully stuffy, although, to be fair, she had zero interest in anything related to the prince. And who could blame her? He’d spoken of nothing but himself for the last thirty minutes.
On the bright side, the conversation required little effort on her part.
Pippa sat perched on the edge of the stone fountain, a polished gem basking in the summer sun. That was the purpose of a crown jewel, was it not? To be lovely, precious, and utterly useless.
The knowledge heated her blood.
She was so over being the perfect royal. Frankly, it was exhausting. And after spending a year abroad—fine, a year and a half—she’d realized the world had bigger problems than the color of her nail polish. Honestly, who gave a damn if she wore Royal Rose or Fuchsia Fever?
The world would not end if she wore—gasp—an unnatural color.
High society, on the other hand...
A bead of sweat trickled down her hairline, and she resisted the urge to swipe it away, the words of her decorum instructor, Miss Cartwright, echoing in her head.
A princess doesn’t sweat; she shines.
Bollocks. It was so hot even the cool rush of the fountain couldn’t take the edge off the stifling humidity.
“Philippa, are you feeling alright?” Dominik asked, worry creasing his brow as he tilted his head to study her.
Pippa straightened, surprise washing over her. Perhaps Dominik wasn’t as self-absorbed as she’d imagined. It was rather sweet of him to be concerned about her imminent heat stroke, even if he was the one who’d dragged her out here.
Not that she blamed him. No, she knew exactly where to lay blame for the parade of royal suitors descending on Valeria.
After all, Their Majesties’ plans to marry her off had been splashed all over the populars.
Which was why she hadn’t felt the least bit guilty for declining Dominik’s prior invitations. She’d put him off for nearly a week—practically a record—but her luck had run out this morning. He’d cornered her outside her suite, suggesting they take a walk in the gardens.
“I’m quite well, thank you.”
Aside from the tedious task of hosting every unmatched toff in the eastern hemisphere.
“Are you certain?” Dominik asked, lowering his voice. “You look a bit… peaked.”
Sweet Jesus. The country was in the midst of a heat wave. Had he never seen a grown woman sweat before?
“Just a little flush.” She offered him a gentle smile, one she’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times at the behest of Miss Cartwright. It was fake as hell, but that was kind of the point. “No need for concern.”
Unless, of course, he continued to tell her how terrible she looked. In which case, perhaps she could have Sarah zap him with her taser. She exchanged a look with the bodyguard, who watched them from a respectful distance at the edge of the garden.
Sarah gave a nearly imperceptible shake of the head.
Spoilsport.
“Splendid.” Relief softened Dominik’s features, and he scooted closer so their knees were touching. He was handsome, if you were into tall, dark, and royal—which she wasn’t. The last thing she needed was another self-important aristocrat in her life, telling her how to think and behave. “I’m having such a lovely time getting to know you,” he said. “I’d hate for our time to be cut short.”
Yes, God forbid she get sick and ruin his good time.
“Really?” She forced herself to meet his eye. The old Pippa would have let it go, but she wasn’t that girl anymore. At least, she didn’t want to be. She was tired of being the proper, pliant princess, always quietly conceding. After all, what was the point of being royal if you couldn’t put your titles and privilege to good use? Forget state dinners and royal balls. She wanted to help people.Real people. People who deserved access to clean water, sanitation, education. But first she needed to extricate herself from this situation. “You haven’t asked me a single question about myself.”
Dominik’s smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. “Please forgive me. You must think my manners sorely lacking.”
Among other things.
Before she could respond, he rushed on. “I suppose I feel like I know you already. Their Majesties have told me so many wonderful things about you.”