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Elizabeth arches a brow. “Jeffrey didn’t want to meet girls?”

“Jeffrey’s private about those sorts of things. But Nick and I had our share of fun. I think our old sleeping bags are still up in the rafters.”

“Hope for fun with a farm girl springs eternal?” Elizabeth asks, making me laugh a little guiltily.

“Something like that. But it was never anything too serious. Nick and I knew the girls around here were prince hunters, first and foremost. We could have had a bag of rocks for brains, and they still would have laughed at anything we said. What about you? Did you run into a lot of princess hunters in your neck of the woods?” I ask, wondering if she might finally share more about what her dating life was like leading up to our official engagement.

She tucks a curl behind her ear. “Well, I’m technically royalty, but money and fame aren’t part of the package with my family. I’m sure I had a very different experience than yours.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re still a princess, even if it’s a ceremonial role and not a governing one. And you’re an identical twin and one of a set of triplets. That’s all pretty unusual.”

She inclines her head in agreement. “I guess. Though, I don’t think of it that way. Being one of three is all we’ve ever known. It’s business as usual to us, and I honestly feel more like a twin than a triplet most of the time. I love Alexandra, but she’s always karate chopped to the beat of her own feral ninja drum,” she says, the description making me smile despite my foul mood.

“I remember that. She nearly drowned Nick half a dozen times that summer.”

Elizabeth laughs. “She did. But that was his fault for continuing to play Loch Ness Lake Monster with her after she showed him her victim-claiming powers.”

“Nick never learns from his mistakes, especially where girls are concerned.”

“Well, in his defense, Zan can be charming when she wants to be. And she’s so little it’s easy to underestimate her as a potential threat.”

“She’s still a tiny thing?”

Elizabeth nods. “Just a smidge over five feet. She blames me for it. Insists I tried to eat her in the womb.”

I snort. “You do seem pretty vicious,” I tease. “I’m not surprised she’s pegged you as the troublemaker.”

Her eyes narrow, but she’s still smiling as she says, “Speaking of troublemakers, you’re a lot different than when we were kids.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In a lovely way,” she confirms, making me wonder just how repulsive I’ll have to be to turn her off. “I didn’t care for you much back then.”

“Is that your nice way of saying you wanted to kick me in the nuts and stuff the snakes I put in your bed down my boxer shorts?”

She grins. “Something like that.”

“And I would have deserved it,” I say. “I’m sorry about the way I behaved. I was nine years old, and the thought of holding hands with a girl was repulsive, let alone being engaged to marry one. Especially a five-year-old baby almost the same age as my littlest brother. It all felt so weird and…insulting.”

She cocks her head thoughtfully. “I can understand that. For me, it was just confusing. I had no idea what being married really meant. My parents are old friends who tolerate each other’s eccentricities and live mostly separate lives. I thought marriage was something like that. Like…making a friend who will be your roommate for a long time.” She wrinkles her nose. “It was only scary because you were a stranger. And not a very nice one.”

My chest tightens, and I find myself reaching out to take her hand. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Truly. If I could go back in time and knock some sense into nine-year-old me, I would.”

“It’s okay,” she says generously.

“No, it isn’t. I should have been reined in. I’m surprised my grandfather didn’t notice what I was up to. Here at home, he always had eyes and ears on me. I couldn’t step out of line without getting called into his office for a tongue-lashing. The day after my father left, I caused a scene in the dining room during lunch. Grandfather made me stand at attention by the window in the library, saluting the flag, for three hours as punishment.” Elizabeth makes a sympathetic noise that I brush off with a squeeze of her hand. “It’s fine. Really. No need to pity me. I wasn’t scarred by it, and I’m glad my grandfather was hard on me. It built character.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t allowed to grieve the loss of your father, though,” she says generously. “That had to have been hard.”

I shake my head. “Not really. I was angry for my mother, for the embarrassment his leaving caused her, but I was glad he was gone. He was a cheater and a liar, and my family is better off without him.”


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