“Not the prince?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Nina glanced over at him, curious. “So you didn’t have any problems getting permission for the play? I mean, isn’t it a security risk?”
There had always been stringent regulations when the twins were involved in extracurriculars, which for them had usually meant sports. Heightened security at their games, no photography, and, strangest of all, no mascots (the big costumes were too easy to hide a weapon in). Since the twins had attended the same small private schools since kindergarten, their classmates were used to it. But Nina had no idea what rules were in place for Jamie, a future king studying abroad in a foreign country.
“By that logic, everything is a security risk. Being onstage isn’t that different from any of the royal appearances I do back home,” Jamie replied. “You’re right in guessing that my dad doesn’t approve, but only because he thinks theater is a waste of time.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jamie shrugged. “Oh well, there are more embarrassing royal hobbies. At least I’m not starting a vanity tequila company like Prince Juan Carlos. I mean, have you seen the bottle?” Jamie added, eyes twinkling. “It’s so ridiculous. The cap is shaped like a crown.”
“Remind me to order that next time I want tequila shots,” Nina joked. Then, after another beat of silence, she asked, “What’s your dad like?”
“He changed a lot after the divorce.” When Nina stared at him in surprise, Jamie hesitated. “You didn’t know?”
She didn’t follow other royal families all that much; even if she had read the tabloids, which she tried her best to avoid, the foreign royals got minimal coverage compared to the Washingtons.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Nina said quickly.
“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now.” Jamie seemed to be striving for a lighthearted tone and failing. “My mom fell in love with her tennis instructor. Tale as old as time, right?”
“I’m sorry,” Nina breathed.
His eyes drifted downward as he continued. “My parents only dated for four months before they got engaged. My mom was swept along in the fairy tale of it all, but for my dad, it was the real deal. Even after he caught her cheating, he begged her to stay with us, but she wanted a divorce. She and Henri got married. They live in Nova Scotia with my three half siblings.”
“And your dad never remarried?” Nina asked gently.
Jamie shook his head. “The thing is, Dad is still in love with Mom. He’s sort of old-fashioned in that way: once he gave her his heart, it was hers forever, and that was that. Game over. If I hadn’t been born, he could probably have forced himself to marry someone else for the sake of the succession,” Jamie said heavily. “Instead it’s just the two of us. And I know that in his heart Dad still thinks of her as his wife, in spite of the divorce, in spite of the fact that she’s out there living another life.”
It struck Nina as deeply tragic, and misguided, yet also loyal in a way that people never were anymore. As if Jamie’s father lived by a code of integrity practically forgotten in the modern age. And poor Jamie, to feel abandoned by his mom and then have to fill so many roles for his father: being his successor and also his entire family unit. That must have put him under a tremendous amount of pressure.
“Funny enough, this place—Washington—is the last time my parents were together and happy, before it all fell apart,” Jamie went on. “I was twelve.”
It sparked a clang of recognition in Nina’s mind. “Wait a second. I remember you!”
“Ah, you’ve finally recalled our magical encounter in the gardens at Bellevue?”
“No! I mean, yes, I remember that—but now I remember when we were kids. You used to come see Jeff and Sam during the summers, didn’t you?”
Jamie nodded. “I joined my parents on their annual state visit to Washington. They were pretty close with Adelaide and George back then,” he said. “We would stay for a couple of weeks.”
It struck Nina as a very unique form of power, something only another royal could do, to refer to the Queen Mother and the late king by their first names. She had known them since she was a kid, and even she had never dared call them anything but Your Majesty.
Looking at Jamie now, she marveled that she hadn’t made the connection. Of course this was the same blond, impish boy who’d joined the twins in all their schemes. “Didn’t we sneak down to the docks one time and try to steal the royal barge?” she recalled.
“We almost succeeded! We had it unmoored and halfway out into the river before we got caught.”
“And we were flying a pirate flag!” Nina and Sam had found it in one of the upstairs closets, stashed alongside pumpkins and Halloween decorations. Sam had instantly decided that they would commandeer the royal barge and sail down the river in true pirate style.
“Alas, the pirate joyride was too good for this world. May we mourn it in peace,” Jamie said somberly, and they both laughed again.
It was bittersweet, recalling events that were so saturated with the memory of Jeff. Nina couldn’t stop feeling angry at him and Daphne for not realizing how epically mismatched they were. She could only hope that one of them would call off the wedding.
“We should steal the barge again sometime,” she said, looking back up at Jamie. “Or, you know, go on the grown-up version of a pirate-ship joyride.”
“I believe you Americans would call that a booze cruise,” Jamie pointed out.
“As long as we’re not driving.”
Jamie seemed a little surprised by her reply, and really, so was Nina. But she was so tired of keeping herself withdrawn. She’d spent too long being angry—at Daphne, at Jeff—and she had thought of her anger like a shield, protecting her heart. Except the shield had become impossibly heavy and begun to drag her down.
Maybe it was time she let someone in.
A week later, Daphne stared around the ballroom at Washington Palace, which was as crowded and glittering as she had ever seen it. She should have been thrilled: this was her engagement party, the culmination of everything she’d spent years working for. In her narrow-waisted white dress with blue embroidery, her hair swept into an updo, she looked like she was already a princess.
But the reality wasn’t quite as flawless as she’d dreamed. She still caught a few of the guests, the high-ranking dukes or foreign ambassadors, staring at her with mingled confusion and distaste. They were clearly wondering what Jefferson was thinking, tying himself to the daughter of a disgraced former baronet when he could have had any woman in the world. She’s pretty, sure, Daphne could almost hear them whispering to one another, but that doesn’t mean he should marry her.