He glanced up and down at her as he said, “I can’t believe you’re a virgin.”
I stepped in front of her and my fingers curled. Nicole wasn’t his to steal. Emily stepped between us and pushed on our shoulders as she said, “Ignore my stupid brother. I’m Emily.”
Nicole clutched the back of my shirt as she offered to shake hands.
“Nice to meet you both. Ryder said he loves having both of you as his siblings.”
Yes, most of the time. But my brother had a reputation for charming women—though he’d usually avoided the ones I’d been interested in. Still, he’d not been truly horrible this time, so I relaxed my shoulders.
Emily had no idea what I was thinking as she looped arms with Nicole to lead her to the table. “Lies, but sweet ones. I didn’t want to like you, Nicole.”
Nicole glanced back at me as she asked Emily, “Why?”
She directed Nicole to the seat next to my usual spot, as she said, “If our father is choosing our spouses now, he has too much control.”
Nicole scooted to the chair, but she tilted her head and told Emily, “You can marry whomever you choose.”
Emily shook her head and stepped back as she said, “Aww, now that sounds so American of you. Good luck.”
She headed to her seat across from me. One day, when Harry married, she’d be forced down a chair, as the seats to my father’s right were reserved for the crown prince and his wife.
I took my seat to the left of my father’s empty chair, but then trumpets blared. We all stood at attention as I asked, “Are you ready, Nicole?”
She stood, but her face was white as she asked, “For what?”
Part of me envied her curiosity right now, but I knew my father’s house wasn’t exactly comfortable or warm for an outsider.
“Here he comes,” I said, as the double doors that led to the throne room slowly swung open. “My father.”
She pivoted toward me and asked, “This formal? For breakfast?”
And then, there he was. Silver-haired, tanned, and fit. He had apparently finished with his morning run and the military training regimen he’d never stopped. He constantly drilled into Harry’s and my heads that we must be physically fit to be a respected royal. At this hour, he was usually in the gym, but he’d clearly made an exception to his routine. I lowered my head according to custom and she did the same. I whispered, “Must be eager to see you in person.”
She scooted closer to me and held my hand for a moment. “Glad Gio brought me the dress.”
She popped her head up and glanced at him. “H—”
“He’s the king,” I interrupted in a stern whisper. I stood still so she’d know we didn’t move right now, and I added, “We don’t greet him until he greets us.”
She lowered her head again, but asked, “Even you?”
My father sat down and answered for me, “It’s been that way since birth.”
I popped my head up as we all formally sat down again, now that he was seated. Dad then folded his hands in front of him and asked, “Found someone new to whisper with, Ryder?”
I squeezed her hand under the table, then let it go, as I said, “You picked her for me.”
Servants brought us a typical Nordish breakfast, with plates of sandwiches, coffee, yogurt, and orange juice. The whole grain bread with oats was crunchy and the cheeses were locally made.
Hopefully, Nicole would try more than yogurt.
She picked up her spoon, though, like she’d just have that. I was about to stop her as my father hadn’t eaten yet, but then my dad picked up his cheese and meatball sandwich and took a bite.
She had no idea that he’d ensured she hadn’t broken protocol. And he didn’t scold her, like he’d done with me as a boy. Instead he said, “I’ve been reading your list of demands, Miss Steel.”
Her eyes widened, but she reached for a small sandwich to try. I relaxed as she asked, “Already?”
We ate in silence for a moment, but as my father finished his small portion so he could begin his daily royal duties soon, he said, “Yes. We want assurances, however, that nothing that is considered a private family matter will be discussed without permission.”
