“What about you? What brought you to the registrar’s office?”
Now it was Jeff’s turn to look embarrassed. “I was meeting with my academic advisor.”
That didn’t make sense. There weren’t any faculty offices in Edwards Hall, except…“Is Dr. Hale your advisor?”
He shifted self-consciously. “She insisted on it—she said that she’s such a good family friend, she wouldn’t feel comfortable off-loading me onto anyone else….”
“I get it,” Nina assured him, fighting to hide her amusement. Of course the university president had decided to personally oversee Jeff’s academics. It was always like this with Jeff: he was so excruciatingly privileged that it should have been easy to resent him, except he somehow made that impossible. He was too good-natured, too guileless.
“Actually, Nina, I’m glad I bumped into you,” Jeff told her. “Do you have a minute?”
She nodded, and he pushed open the nearest door, revealing an empty conference room. Had Jeff known it was empty, or had he just assumed that anyone in there would go away once he asked?
She pulled out a chair and sat, but Jeff remained on his feet. He wandered over to the window, pulled back the shade to peer out, then let it fall again.
“I’m sorry, Nina. The last time we talked, I said some unfair things.”
Jeff had gotten angry with her for dating his best friend, especially for keeping it a secret from him. Not that it mattered anymore, anyway. Nina and Ethan were over, and by all accounts, Jeff was back with his ex-girlfriend Daphne. He’d apparently even given her his signet ring.
If Jeff wanted to date a backstabbing social climber, that was his problem.
“You and Ethan are two of my favorite people in the world,” he went on. “Not that you need my approval, of course, but I’m happy for you. I should have said that from the beginning.” He shifted awkwardly. “Maybe, if it’s not too weird, we can all hang out someday? When Ethan is back, I mean.”
The hopeful look on Jeff’s face melted Nina’s lingering resentment. She traced a circle on the surface of the conference table, avoiding his gaze.
“Thank you for saying that. But Ethan and I are just friends now.”
“Oh. I wasn’t sure,” Jeff said clumsily. “I mean, Ethan didn’t mention you when we talked, but I thought that was because…”
He trailed off before saying because you and I used to date. Nina flinched. Honestly, there should be some kind of law protecting you from having to discuss one ex-boyfriend with another.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said again. “Believe it or not, I really was rooting for you guys.”
Since this conversation was already so uncomfortable that she had nothing to lose, Nina turned the focus back to Jeff. “I heard that you and Daphne are back together.”
“We are.” Jeff seemed visibly relieved at the mention of Daphne, as if the topic were a Band-Aid that had needed to be ripped off. “Things with Daphne are good. Great, actually.”
Nina mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “Good for you.”
It had been easy not to care about Jeff’s love life when Nina was following along on the internet, same as the rest of America. It was harder to accept when he was right here, telling Nina how “great” his relationship was. He’d fallen for Daphne’s act hook, line, and sinker.
Even if Nina wanted to intervene—which she didn’t—there was nothing she could do to change his mind. She had tried to tell Jeff the truth about Daphne once before, and he hadn’t believed her.
He sank down in the chair across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” he went on. “Now that we’re at the same school, and will probably keep running into each other, we should try again.”
“Try again?” But—
“To be friends.”
Right, of course. Jeff hadn’t meant that they should try again romantically. Nina shifted in the stiff wooden chair, wondering why her mind had jumped there.
She looked across the conference table and had the disorienting sense of seeing all the different versions of him, layered one atop the other. There was Prince Jefferson George Alexander Augustus, the man who appeared on stages before a frenzied, screaming crowd, who was born to unimaginable wealth and titles. And then there was Jeff, the boy who’d once been Nina’s friend.
She thought of all the years they’d spent together as children. Back then Jeff had been her partner in crime, her co-conspirator, the one who could talk Nina into whatever elaborate scheme Samantha had come up with, then talk all of them out of trouble. She was surprised how much she missed that version of him.
“Friends.” The word felt natural on her lips, and she smiled. “I’d like that.”
The flurry of preparations this week had proven overwhelming, even for Beatrice, who had a lifetime of experience with stressful events.
All week the private airstrip up the coast had surged with activity as planes landed from Mumbai, Mexico City, Oslo. Bystanders lined the streets, cheering the fleet of private cars that whisked foreign royals onto a ferry or helicopter to Bellevue. Beatrice didn’t know what she would’ve done without Sam and Teddy. It was especially sweet of Teddy to stay with her throughout the conference. Since he wasn’t the monarch or her heir, he couldn’t attend the actual sessions, but he was welcome at all the unofficial events and social gatherings. “I’m excited to work on my tan and go sailing,” he’d jested, but Beatrice knew the real reason he was here: because she had asked.
When she’d said as much, Teddy’s expression had grown serious. “Of course that’s why I’m staying. I’d do anything for you, Bee.”
And he had, hadn’t he? He’d given up everything for her. In agreeing to marry her, Teddy had effectively promised to renounce his own title and succession rights. Now his brother Lewis would be Duke of Boston someday, while Teddy was a future king consort.
It was the same choice Beatrice’s mother had made almost thirty years ago, signing away her rights as a future duchess once she married George. One could not rule a duchy and be America’s queen consort—or king consort—at the same time. That would involve a clear conflict of interest.
The orchestra at the front of the hall died down, jolting Beatrice back to the present. The opening ceremonies had arrived at last.
Samantha stood behind her, holding the end of Beatrice’s purple train. Beatrice was supposed to enter the great hall, where all the foreign royals would be waiting. Yet her muscles seemed to have frozen.
“Bee?” Sam whispered. When her sister didn’t answer, Sam dropped the cloak and took a few steps forward. “You okay?”