1. 1

1

Edi e

I t feels like I've been hit in the stomach with a taser.

And I know what a taser feels like, thanks to my father's insistence that I take a self-defence/security course when I started working at The King's Hat pub. He set it up with my younger sisters, Enid and Eloise, because both had recently been the recipient of bad breakups and Dad thought knowing how to take a man down would be beneficial for all. One of the lessons involved using a taser on each other, to Enid's everlasting joy, and I can still remember the jittery, nervous sensation with exact clarity.

I feel the same way as I get ready for this date.

It's just a date. I shouldn't be this nervous. And it's not like I haven't been on dates—I'm thirty-two. I've been on dates .

But this one is different.

" I am dating a prince."

I speak the words aloud to my reflection to make it more believable.

It doesn't help, and only brings Ernie, my cat, off the bed to weave between my legs. I like to think it's his way of showing support, but he probably only wants to be fed .

"I am dating a prince, " I tell Ernie, who heads to his food bowl in the kitchen.

It took me three days to agree to go for dinner with him.

It's not like there is a lack of princes in Battle Harbour—we've got four, and one of those is my boss at The King's Hat. Kalle, the prince in question, likes to call me his partner when there's a nasty task that he doesn't want to do, like filling the lady basket in the women's room or cutting up limes for the bar.

He says the juice squirts in his eyes, but that's because he's never bothered to learn to cut them up properly.

Kalle is not the prince I'm going on a date with.

It still seems surreal. That I, Edie England, born and bred in Battle Harbour, Laandia, daughter of Bob and Martha and second eldest of four daughters, have accepted an invitation to dine with a prince. I shake my hair out of my customary ponytail, apply makeup to highlight my brown eyes—my best feature—and try to decrease the size of my nose—my worst.

I look okay. Good enough for dinner with a prince? I have no idea.

I'm still critiquing my reflection when the chime of FaceTime interrupts my playlist. I expect the call is from one of my sisters but my smile widens when the face of Stella Laz fills the screen.

"You're dating a prince," she greets me, speaking loudly over the barking of dogs.

"So are you," I counter.

The flash of her smile is instant but quickly vanishes as a series of texts light up my screen.

"Is everything okay?" she asks .

My shoulders slump. "Sisters. I'll deal with it later. What's new with your Prince Charming?"

Stella and Prince Gunnar are a new thing, still trundling along on wobbly legs like a newborn calf. My friendship with Stella is also quite new, but already more secure, brought about by the shared experience of being bridesmaids in the first royal wedding of Laandia. Lady Camille of Saint Pierre married Prince Odin, and since Camille didn't have a wide circle of friends able to make up the wedding party, Stella and I were recruited.

Actually, Stella's stepsister was supposed to go with Prince Gunnar, but she bailed at the last minute and Stella stepped in.

It's a long story.

Stella's always had a reputation as being difficult. She's sharp-tongued and bad-tempered, but when you get past the crusty surface, there's a soft, squishy centre right there waiting for you.

Unlike in Cinderella , in this reality, Prince Charming fell for the wicked stepsister instead of the boring blonde. Not that Cinderella is boring— Okay, maybe she's a little boring. In my opinion, there are better fairy-tale princesses out there.

"We're not talking about me and Gunnar," Stella points out, her sharp tone softening more every day.

"And we shouldn't say I'm dating a prince because it's a date ," I counter. "One date, not plural. I'm going on one date with a prince. Prince Mathias."

And then what?

But I don't say that out loud.

Prince Mathias is the nephew of King Magnus of Laandia. Beside the four princes and the princess, there is another royal family living on the side of Laandia by the Quebec border, and I met them at Odin's wedding.

I suspect I would have gotten an invitation to Prince Odin's wedding even without Kalle bringing me as a date, but I definitely wouldn't have been a member of the wedding party.

Along with Mathias's interest, it still blows my mind that I, daughter of the former groundskeeper of the king of Laandia's castle, got to be a bridesmaid for the new Princess Camille, soon to be prefect of Saint Pierre.

And if I hadn't been one of the bridesmaids, I doubt Prince Mathias would have asked me to dance. And then invited me to have coffee with him the next day.

And now dinner.

I'm going to dinner with a prince.

It sounds strange, even to me. Yes, I work with Prince Kalle every day and we have shared plenty of meals together, he is Kalle, not Prince. There's a difference.

"You went for coffee with him yesterday," Stella reminds me. Not that I need reminding. "The entire town noticed, so I think that can be considered a date."

When you live in a town as small as Battle Harbour, everyone knows your name and your business, especially if you have a close association with the royal family. And when you're seen out and about with one of the Peace River royal family… "You should get used to that," I warn Stella. "Having the entire town notice things. Gunnar makes a splash wherever he goes."

It's better to talk about Stella than acknowledge how nervous I was just walking through the town square with Mathias. I—who has been called bubbly too many times to count—could barely string a sentence together. And still , Mathias invited me to dinner!

"We're leaving next week. Six weeks in Southeast Asia." Stella tries for cool but excitement tints her every word. "So no one here will notice anything." There's the smile again. "But I didn't call to talk about that."

"What did you call for then?" But I grin at the screen to take away any sting.

"To give moral support because that's what friends do. You look nice," she adds.

I check my reflection for the sixteenth time, pushing a wayward strand of dark hair behind my ear.

I miss my ponytail.

I'm not used to lipstick.

I'm wearing high heels.

But I have to admit that I do look nice. "Thanks."

"Good luck," Stella sings. "You can let me know how it goes if you want."

"I'll call you tomorrow with all the dirty details," I promise. "Not that they'll be dirty."

Stella laughs as she says goodbye.

I'm going out for dinner with a prince. My reflection shows a nervous/excited/slightly crazed grin with too many teeth.

I point at the mirror. "Get it together," I tell myself in my best end-of-night-voice when I have to tell those holding up the bar it's time to go home. "He's just a prince."

The laugh bubbles up because… Mathias is a prince.

Reluctantly, I check my texts.

Enid: You ready to wow him?

Ella: A PRINCE! Mom is FREAKING!

Eloise: He's so cute. Looks just like Odin.

Ella: When are you going to get that P O is so out of your league.

Enid: Plus married

Eloise: A girl can still dream

Enid: Mom does that enough for all of us

And then on a separate text string, there is a text from my mother.

Mom: I am so proud of you! Even if this goes nowhere, know that you have fulfilled my dream to have a prince fall for one of my girls.

And my mother is not joking.

When I told her I had not only met Prince Mathias at the wedding but danced with him several times, she clapped so much her palms were tomato red. And there were real tears in her eyes.

It's a good thing I'm not part of Laandia "society," like in Bridgerton or my mother would be one of the mamas who terrorize the season's bachelors in their attempts to marry one of their daughters to a prince.

She'd focused her attentions on King Magnus's sons and completely forgot about the royal cousins. Lucky for them .

Mom has kept her hope alive that somehow Prince Kalle will look at me as more than just a friend someday, but I can't see that happening.

And I don't like to think about it because it's hard enough watching him date every single woman in town—and many more who are just visiting.

I've stopped watching.

I'm used to working with Kalle. I can keep it all business, with no longing looks or hesitant sighs when he walks out of the room. As far as Kalle is concerned, I feel nothing but friendship for him. There is friendly affection between us—we are friends. He's one of my best friends.

That's it.

But as I give Ernie one last pet and head out for a quick stop to check in at the bar before I meet Mathias, there's a strange sensation mixed with my excitement. There's a tug—a pretty strong one—for me to stay right where I am. To get out of this dress and into my jeans.

Because as heady it is to be going on a date with a prince, there's that something in the pit of my stomach that's telling me it's wrong. That it's not Mathias I'm supposed to be with.

I do my best to ignore it.