Page 38 of Royally Matched
She lifts one side of her mouth into a lopsided grin. “You’re cynical. Just like Sofia,” she sniffs. “You don’t have to help if you don’t want to, but from what Father said, you really were quite against the match, so I thought you might leap at the opportunity, much as you leapt at the opportunity to rescue Sofia at the ball.”
“It was a shock, that’s all. I want my brother to be with somebody he loves.”
“See? You do agree. We want the same thing, you and I, Marco. If we work together, we might just succeed.”
She created a trap, and I walked straight into it.
It’s a totally half-baked idea, trying to find people’s soulmates in order for them to realize love exists and they’re better off marrying the right person for them. But really, as hairbrained as the whole thing is, she’s got a point, a point I wholeheartedly agree with. Enzoshouldmarry someone he loves—not someone whose smiles for him aren’t genuine.
“How exactly do you think you can pull this off?”
“I have an idea, but you must be sworn to secrecy.”
A secret idea. Can you blame me for being intrigued?
“Tell me everything.”
Chapter 11
Sofia
News of Princess Sofia’s mystery man at long last, good people! Spotted attending a function at the palace late last week was one Lord Strozzi, aka Enzo Revera. What was a young Ledonian business-leader doing meeting Eastern European dignitaries alongside royalty? I wager this man is Princess Sofia’s intended!
But, as excited asI should be at the prospect of seeing our dear Princess Sofia shake off the “pitiful” moniker and finally meet her match, I do have a few questions that desperately need answering. Specifically:
1. Why do the two of them look like they’d rather be with anyone else but together?
2. Could they have both eaten some dodgy prawns at lunch?
3. And most importantly, to quote the Black Eyed Peas, “where is the love?”
This cannot be the man who swept in and rescued the princess at the Husband Hunting Ball from the ring-wielding madman. And if it is, I would hazard a guess he’s clearly not the man she hoped he was.
Perhaps our Besotted Princess is still Pitiful after all?
Your ever devoted royal correspondent,
Fabiana Fontaine xx
#ForcedFairytale
#AwkwardDoesntEvenBeginToDescribeIt
#BackToPitiful
I chew on my lip as I gaze at Fabiana Fontaine’s column in theLedonian Herald, one of our national newspapers.
It’s fine. Everything is fine.
So what if people are asking questions about Enzo and me? We barely know one another, and besides, what I choose to do with my life is none of their business. Thephoto snapped of us at the event may not have been all that flattering, but what do they expect? For us to be clinched in some romantic moment in front of my family and foreign dignitaries? Hardly appropriate for a princess of the realm.
I look around the sea of portraits on the walls of the drawing room. All of them are posed and stiff, appropriately regal and dignified—read chins lifted, shoulders back, almost-but-not-quite smug looks on their faces. That’s exactly the image Enzo and I are projecting in our photo, but has the relationship between the people in the portraits been put under the spotlight? Forget the fact many of the portraits were painted hundreds of years ago and their subjects are now long gone, but the answer would be a resoundingno.
I huff out a breath.
So, things are a little awkward with Enzo. It’s no big deal. Really, it’s to be expected this early on. You can’t simply meet someone and click with them straight away, can you?
The memory of my easy rapport with Marco bounces up and down in front of my eyes, shouting “yes, you can!”