Page 7 of A Royal Mistake

Except sit around, twirling her skirts for another two years.

Before she could formulate a response, the servers returned with silver-lidded dishes and began distributing them with practiced efficiency. The savory scent of roast lamb filled the air, and Pippa’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d missed lunch.

Her future might be going up in flames, but at least her appetite was still intact.

The servers filed out, but no one made a move to touch the food. It was the quietest damn dinner in the history of the royal family, and everyone seemed to wait with bated breath to see what Pippa would do next.

Seriously? The one time she needed Xander or Lena to create a distraction and they were the picture of propriety. No flaming candelabras. No spilled wine. No tabloid scandals.

Not even a well-timed wardrobe malfunction.

“I’ll make you a deal,” the king said, resting his forearms on the table and steepling his fingers above his plate.

A deal?

Hope sparked in her chest.

“If you earnestly participate in the courting process, I will release half the funds in your trust.”

Pippa’s jaw hit the table.

“If you accept a marriage proposal at the end of the summer, I’ll release the full account.”

Of all the sexist, patriarchal bullshit…

Anger sizzled along her skin. She loved her parents, but at times like this, she wondered if they had a single parental instinct between them. How could they possibly think this offer was okay?

“This is absurd,” Liam said, turning to the king. “Pippa’s right. The law is outdated and should be abolished. It’s an embarrassment to Valeria that we have such obsolete, sexist laws on the books.”

“Agreed,” Xander chimed in, shaking his head in disgust. “Bollocks. Has this family learned nothing in the last year?”

Pippa pursed her lips, considering her options. She could rage against the unfairness of it all—which was what they expected—or she could play the game.

This is how things are done at court.

If she accepted the offer, she’d have the money she needed to launch her own charity by summer’s end. And the freedom to bring her dreams to fruition—without a man at her side.

A slow smile spread over her face. Whether they realized it or not, Their Majesties had just given her a gift. Oh, she’d indulge this ridiculous courtship, but she was going to do it her way. No more ambushes. No more letting Their Majesties set the pace. She was going to take control, and she was playing to win.

“I’ll do it.”

No one said she had to make it easy.

* * *

Henry surveyed the suite,taking in the ornate crystal chandeliers, silk rugs, and gilded molding. Dominik’s suite was far nicer than his own, with separate sitting and dining quarters and enough Valerian blue and gold to ensure no guest could forget exactly whose hospitality they were enjoying. Not that he envied Dom’s opulent quarters. The last thing he needed was to be housed in what Dom called The Suitor’s Wing.

The rampant testosterone and constant jockeying for position would drive him to distraction.

He grinned as Dominik joined him at the dining table, making a show of shaking out his napkin and placing it in his lap. He’d planned to dine out—the capital city of Novellus was rumored to serve the best craft brews in the country—but there was no way he was going to decline Dom’s last-minute dinner invitation.

Not when it was his best chance of learning what had happened in the gardens with The Princess Royal.

“Wine?” Henry asked, holding up a bottle of Valerian red. He’d have preferred a lager, but when in Valeria…

“God, yes,” Dom said, offering his wineglass. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

“So I heard.”