Page 47 of A Royal Mistake

It was true. Unlike Lena and Evie, her brothers had grown up in the palace and they’d weathered worse than… whatever had her mother in a mood.

Really, she should probably thank Lena and Evie for sparing her the same fate.

“Fine, but I’m starving,” Pippa said. “I didn’t have a proper dinner last night.”

“Ay Dios mío. Clearly you haven’t seen the headlines.” Lena quickened her pace to keep up with Pippa’s long stride. “Because if you had, food would be the last thing on your mind.”

Doubtful. Nothing came between Pippa and brunch.

Mmm. Crumpets and blackberry jam.

Her stomach rumbled.

“I’ll have a tray brought to my suite,” Lena conceded, “but then you’re telling us everything.”

“Everything?” Pippa parroted back.

“About last night,” Evie chimed in, a wicked gleam in her eye. “We want to know every juicy detail. And don’t you dare leave anything out.”

Pippa swallowed hard, her appetite vanishing. Was this what it was like to have close girlfriends? Or sisters?

Somehow she’d imagined it being less… terrifying.

Then again, when she’d fantasized about having sisters, she’d never imagined herself as the youngest.

Pippa and Evie had loads of experience, and she was a twenty-three-year-old virgin.

This should be delightful.

Back in Lena’s suite, Pippa curled up on a chaise lounge and Evie tossed her a copy ofThe Daily Scoop. One look at the headline and she gave silent thanks she’d been spared brunch with Their Majesties. It would probably be a good idea to avoid them for the rest of the day.

To give them a chance to cool down.

Especially since it had been her idea to open the palace to the media.

“Spill,” Lena ordered, flopping down next to her as Evie took a seat across from them.

Pippa smiled in spite of herself. Behind closed doors, the future queen was about as formal as a paper plate. She could see why her brother had fallen for the Nuyorican artist, who was their mother’s opposite in every way.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she lied, unable to meet Lena’s curious stare.

“Oh, come on,” Evie begged, tossing a decorative pillow at her head. Pippa leaned right, and it sailed over her shoulder, landing on the floor behind her. “Xander and I caught you in the garden. You don’t really think we’re going to believe you were out there stargazing, do you?”

“Maybe?”

Evie rolled her eyes. “If you don’t tell us, we’ll be forced to tell Her Majesty where you’re hiding out.”

Pippa sat up straight. “You wouldn’t.”

Would they?

She glanced from Evie to Lena and back again. They stared at her solemnly, not a trace of humor between them.

Shit. Their poker faces were good. Better than hers, anyway.

“Fine.” She threw up her arms and let them settle over her breasts, crossed in defiance. “There’s not much to tell. We just kissed.”

“Bullshit.” Lena wagged a finger at her. “You don’t just kiss a guy like Heinrich von der Recke.”