The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

“Well, Your Highness, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

She hadn’t been expecting that response. “Oh?”

“A true fan knows we are United.” Then, he winked at her and moved on.

She was breathless from his touch, but then Caleb was in front of her, and she snapped back into tiara mode. The rest of the line was tortuously slow, but eventually, everyone came through, and her royal duties concluded. She followed the queen, Jamie, and Juliana from the room. They convened in the antechamber to remove their crowns. As lovely as they were, they were heavy and a bit conspicuous. After handing the hardware over, Ele turned to join the party.

A hand on her arm stopped her.

“I expect you will conduct yourself as is fit,” her grandmother remarked.

Up until that moment, Ele hadn’t realized Queen Lilian knew of her romance with Tristan Davenport. But with her reminder of Ele’s propriety, there was no doubt she was well informed. Ele resisted the urge to look for Jamie’s support.

She met her grandmother’s gaze. “Of course, Grandmama.”

Queen Lilian raised her very elegant brow.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ele corrected.

Jamie opened the door and waved his hand, indicating Juliana and Ele should leave while they had the chance. Neither one of them were stupid enough to wait for a dismissal. When the queen invoked her title, she wasn’t in the mood. When the door shut, Juliana giggled, Jamie chuckled, and Ele shook her head.

“You could have warned me,” Ele remarked dryly.

“I did,” he reminded.

He was right. He had. He’d told her of his nefarious plan, but she hadn’t known he’d included Tristan’s name to the queen when he wheedled her passage to America. She gave a passing thought to the queen’s little tête-à-tête with Tristan.

“Well, you should have been more explicit,” she snapped. Because she was still angry with him over his manipulation even though she enjoyed the fruits of his labor.

The two-minute interaction with the queen was enough to fuel her brisk walk to the ballroom and to dull her nerves. She entered from the west door and walked purposefully into the room. She glanced right and left, failing miserably in feigning nonchalance.

“Your Highness,” Millie greeted. “There are some people for you to meet.”

Of course there are.

The charity part of the evening was apparently over, and she was whisked back into the princess part. Millie moved her through the crowd, introducing patrons of the sport, et cetera. She listened with half an ear, eyes scanning the room.

“Sheena Davenport,” Millie said.

Ele automatically reached her hand out before the name registered. She jerked her gaze forward and met the warm, shining eyes of Tristan’s favorite sister. Her light-brown skin was the exact shade of Tristan’s, but her face was peppered with freckles. Her gorgeous, spiraling hair cascaded around her.

Ele spent her life on the fringes. As a child, she had been coddled and sheltered. When she made it to school age, the notoriety of who she was had already been ingrained into the little hearts and minds of her peers, so she never knew if the offered friendships were genuine. It

had made relationships difficult. But there were people she observed, people she immediately wished she could get to know in a meaningful way. Perhaps knowing the woman in front of her was important to Tristan made her feel as if she wanted to connect with Sheena Davenport, but Ele thought it was more the old soul residing in the depths of the laughing eyes that spoke to her.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sheena said. She didn’t tack on any of the royal entreaties, and somehow, it made her all that more endearing.

“No,” Ele practically gushed, “the pleasure is mine.” She lowered her voice, her excitement making her conspicuous. “I have heard so many wonderful things about you.”

“Oh,” Sheena commented with a look of surprise. “We aren’t pretending.”

Ele glanced around, a habit. “Did you want to?”

Sheena’s hand came to her chest. “I think you might have taken me by surprise.”

“I wouldn’t think much surprised you.”

Sheena threw back her head and laughed. It was a husky, joyous sound, probably indulged at will. “You would be right,” she finally responded with sparkling eyes. “I was prepared to hate you a little bit.”