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An elegantly scripted invitation arrived three dayster, hand–delivered by a royal messenger. Amelia stared at the thick cream envelope, the royal crest embossed in gold on its surface.

“Another one?” her grandfather asked, watching her from his favorite armchair in the study.

“Yes.” Amelia broke the seal carefully. “It’s a dinner invitation. From the pce.” Her stomach tightened as she read further. “For tonight.”

Her grandfather’s eyebrows rose. “Tonight? That’s rather short notice. Very unlike Theodore I would have to say.”

“It says Prince Niko has returnedter than he had hoped from his trip and wishes to meet me before the formal events begin.” Amelia’s voice remained steady even as her heart thundered in her chest. “King Theodore requests our presence at seven.” Amelia held herself back from snorting… Talk aboutte to the party. Niko was just turning up now, talk about bad manners.

“Then we shall attend,” Edward replied simply, as if they were discussing a casual tea rather than Amelia’s first encounter with her future husband. “Your parents are still resting from their journey, but they’ll be pleased. I’ll inform them immediately.”

Amelia nodded, still staring at the invitation. Four days before her wedding, and she would finally meet the man who would be her husband. The man who would share her bed, her life, her future. She felt dizzy at the thought.!--

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“I think I’ll take a walk in the gardens,” she murmured, rising from her seat.

“Indeed. But make sure you choose something stunning to wear tonight,” her grandfather said. “First impressions matter greatly.”

Amelia nodded again, her feet carrying her outside on autopilot. Once in the garden she hurried to the pond area and the big willow tree. She leaned against the trunk, allowing herself one brief moment of panic.

“Tonight,” she whispered to the empty air. “I meet him tonight.”

What if I hate him?

“The blue one,” Gloria Wilson dered, surveying the three gownsid out on Amelia’s bed. “It willplement your coloring perfectly.”

Amelia studied the dress her mother had selected. The midnight blue silk fell in elegant lines, modest yet ttering. Not itoo /ishowy, not too demure. Exactly the kind of calcted choice a future princess should

make.

“What do you think, darling?” Her father, Ted, asked from his position near the window. He looked ufortable amid the feminine discussion of fashion, but determined to support his daughter.

“It’s lovely,” Amelia agreed, running her fingers over the cool fabric. “And appropriate.” Her grandfather had arranged a whole wardrobe of clothes thinking that the three months she had spent with him would include more outings with Prince Niko but he had been wrong. It wasn’t like the clothes would go to waste.

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Her mother beamed, pleased with her daughter’s acquiescence. “You’ve always had excellent taste, even as a child. Prince Niko will be impressed, I’m certain.”

Amelia resisted the urge to point out that taste in clothing hardly seemed a solid foundation for marriage. Instead, she smiled. “I hope so.” No, what she suspected Niko would worry about more was her ability to produce children than the clothes she wore.

Her father approached, cing his hands on her shoulders. “Amelia, we know this isn’t… conventional. But your grandfather and King Theodore believe this union will be good for you both.” Her father’s tone was gentle.

“And Prince Niko is quite handsome,” her mother added, as if that somehow made the arrangement more ptable. “I’ve seen recent photographs.”

Everyone had seen photos of him recently as he has spent thest three months in America with his younger brother Prince Alexei. The press had loved every minute of it.

“I’ve seen them too,” Amelia replied, Niko’s brother seemed to be more rxed in all the photos taken of the two princes. Amelia really hoped her intended wasn’t as uptight as he seemed.

“We just want you to be happy, sweetheart,” her father said gently.

Amelia looked up at him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. “I know, Dad.”

Her mother pped her hands decisively. “Now, let’s get ready.”

As her parents left to prepare themselves for the evening, Amelia sank onto the edge of her bed. Happy. They wanted her to be happy. But happiness seemed secondary to duty in this equation, a luxury rather than a requirement.

“Please,” she whispered to whatever fates might be listening, “just let him be kind.”

Their car passed through ornate iron gates, proceeding up a winding drive nked by perfectly manicured gardens. Guards in uniform stood at attention as they approached.

Amelia sat perfectly straight in the backseat, her hands folded in herp to hide her nerves. Her mother sat beside her, practically vibrating with excitement, while her father and grandfather upied the seats facing them.

“Remember,” her grandfather said, his voice low and formal, “King Theodore appreciates directness and honesty. Address him as ‘Your Majesty‘ initially, then ‘Sir‘ if he invites less formality.”

“And Prince Niko is ‘Your Royal Highness,’ then ‘Sir,” her mother added. “Though I imagine he’ll ask you to use his name fairly quickly, given the circumstances.”

Amelia nodded, fighting the absurd urge tough. Given the circumstances. Such a delicate way to refer to their impending marriage in just four days. She could not see herself calling him ‘Sir‘ once married. Unless he really did have a pole stuck up his assb. /b

The car came to a smooth stop at the pce entrance. One of the staff opened the car door. Pce staff guided them through vast corridors lined with portraits. Amelia’s eyes darted from one painting to another, wondering if she might spot Prince Niko among them, but they moved too quickly for proper examination.

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Finally, they bwere /bshown into an elegant reception room. No throne room formality here this was clearly meant to be a more intimate setting for their first meeting. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over antique furniture and priceless art. French doors opened onto a terrace overlooking the gardens.

“Lord Falconi, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, and Miss Amelia Wilson,” announced a uniformed attendant.

And there they were.

King Theodore stood near the firece, tall and imposing despite his sixty–plus years. His silver hair and beard were perfectly groomed, his posture military–straight. He wore a dark suit rather than formal regalia, but his bearing left no doubt about his royal status.

Beside him stood a younger man who could only be Prince Alexei, Niko’s brother. He was handsome in a more approachable way, with an easy smile and slightly more rxed posture than his father.

And then Amelia saw him. Prince Niko.

He stood slightly apart from the others; his dark eyes fixed on her with unreadable intensity. In person, he was even more striking than in photographs… tall and broad–shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His dark hair was short.

Unlike his father and brother, who wore subtle smiles, his expression remained serious, assessing.

A young woman hovered near Alexei, her beautiful face framed by calcting eyes, carefully taking in everything. Amelia recognized her as Lady Maria, a second cousin of the royal family. She wasn’t smiling. Amelia knew who she was because the training she had taken since being in Wystovia had included the royal family tree.

“Wee,” King Theodore boomed, stepping forward to sp hands with her grandfather. “Edward, old friend. It has been too long.”

“Indeed it has, Theodore,” her grandfather replied with equal warmth. “May I present my son–inw and daughter, Ted and Gloria Wilson, and of course, my granddaughter, Amelia.”

The King turned his attention to Amelia’s parents, exchanging pleasant greetings before finally focusing on Amelia herself.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “Atst, we meet. I’ve heard much about you from your grandfather.”

Amelia executed a perfect curtsy, just as she’d practiced countless times. “Your Majesty. It’s an honor to be weed into your home.”

Theodore smiled, genuine warmth reaching his eyes. “The honor is ours. Please, allow me to introduce my sons.” He gestured toward the younger men. “Prince Alexei, my youngestb.” /b

Alexei stepped forward with a rxed grin, taking Amelia’s hand and bringing it briefly to his lips. “A pleasure to meet my future sister–inw. I’ve been looking forward to having another ally in this family. Too many stiff shirts already.”

Amelia couldn’t help returning his smile. There was something immediately likable about Alexei… ack of pretension despite his royal status.

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“And of course,” King Theodore continued, “my eldest son, Prince Niko.”

The moment had arrived. Prince Niko stepped forward, his movements very controlled. Up close, Amelia could see that his eyes weren’t simply dark, they were nearly ck, framed by thickshes that any woman would envy. His mouth, set in a serious line, had a surprising fullness to it.

He took her hand, his touch warm and firm. “Miss Amelia,” he said, his voice deeper than she’d expected. “I’m pleased we finally meet.”

He brought her hand to his lips, his eyes never left hers.

“Your Royal Highness,” she replied, proud that her voice remained calm and didn’t show how nervous she was. “The pleasure is mine.”

His expression didn’t change; she couldn’t tell if he was happy with her at all.

“And this is our cousin, Lady Maria,” Alexei added, gesturing toward the beautiful young woman who had moved to stand beside him.

Maria stepped forward, offering a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Amelia. How wonderful to meet you. We’ve all been so curious about the ‘American bride.””

There was something in her tone, a slight emphasis on “American” that made Amelia bristle internally. But she maintained her polite smile. “Thank you, Lady Maria. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of Prince Niko’s family.”

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