Page 3 of Royally Matched
“I take it as one, and it’s exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
It’s true that our brother fell in love with Maddie, the new Princess of Malveaux. As our father’s heir to the throne here in Ledonia, Maddie would have had to give up her claim to the Malveauxian throne to marry him. Apparently, she was utterly torn between Alex and the Crown, although Ami tells me Maddie has admitted that she would have given it up for Alex if the need had arisen.
That’s love for you. Far too unnecessarily dramatic if you ask me. Dramatic and messy.
With Alex now formally abdicated, even though it hasn’t been announced yet, we all know our younger brother, Max, aka Prince Maximilien, will become our father’s heir, skipping the female line altogether.
Because we arethatmodern in Ledonia.
But don’t get me started on that topic. Tonight isn’t the time for me to wrestle with the rights and wrongs of the Ledonian law of succession. (Although, for the record, it is most certainly wrong. As our parents’ first-born child, why should I not inherit the throne simply because I’m not male? It’s wrong, it’s old fashioned, and if I had my way, that law would be shoved right out the window.)
Where was I? That’s right. Defending my decision to have an arranged marriage.
Amelia pads over to the window. “So many cars! We should get down there, Sofe. Everyone’s arriving.”
“You go down. I just need to check something.” I pick up my tablet and pull up the spreadsheet. The familiar rows and columns tell me what I already know.
There’s only one man I want to meet tonight.
Lord Strozzi, Enzo Revera.
My destiny.
My spreadsheet is filled with boxes, and Enzo Revera, Lord Strozzi, gets a green tick in almost all of them, head and shoulders above all the other men attending the ball tonight.
He’s everything a princess would need and want in a husband.
Young? Check. An appropriate twenty-nine.
Educated? Check. An MBA from Harvard Business School, no less.
Serious? Check. Opera, chess, and reading are his preferred pastimes.
Handsome? Che… Well, he’s not ugly. So, there’s that. In fact, he’s got a lot going for him. He’s taller than me, and although he looks like he enjoys a good meal, he carries it well. He’s got light brown hair that’s receding a little, but nothing too drastic. What’s more, he has kind eyes, and although I’m not a fan of bushy mustaches, it suits him well enough. And besides, I’m sure he’d shave it off if I asked him. And if not, I might grow to like it over time—even if it does remind me of a furry caterpillar, nestling on his top lip.
But looks are literally only skin deep, and they really don’t matter, not when it comes to choosing the right kind of man to spend my life with.
What’s more, Father has agreed with me that he’s on the top of the list of potential candidates, so it’s a win-win.
“What have you got there?” Amelia peers over my shoulder, and immediately, I snap the screen shut. I know it’s too late and she’s seen my spreadsheet, which has been my closely guarded secret for weeks now.
Dang it! Why did I have to check to see what I already know?
“Sofia!” she exclaims, aghast, her eyes so wide I’m surprised they don’t pop out of her face and roll across the floor. “Is that what I think it is?”
I lift my chin. “That depends. What do you think it is, exactly?”
“A list of eligible bachelors and how many of your impossible standards they meet?”
I press my lips together. She’s hit the nail square on its head.
“I cannot believe you! You can’t choose a husband based on a checklist in some spreadsheet.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because… you just can’t.”
I slot my tablet back into its case and zip it up. “Great argument, Ami. You totally convinced me. I’ll tell Father to call the entire ball off.”