There are few things Prince Alexander Barrington is ever wrong about. So when he's charged with teaching Joy Simmons the ways of being a royal, he begrudgingly finds that not only is he wrong about her, but with the way things are going, she might j...
The next morning was interesting to say the least.
"Look at this," Uncle Albert crowed, tossing another newspaper on top of the pile on the kitchen island that we—him, me, Bernice and Alexander—were all looking through.
All of them were headed along the same lines.
Future Princess risks her life to save seven year old
King Albert's successor a true leader
Soon to be Princess brings joy to Bellewynn—ironic.
On top of all that, the latest one that Uncle Albert was showing us: Royal and regal, the princess of the people
"The princess of the people," Uncle Albert hummed. "I like the ring of that."
Funny enough, I did too.
"Strange how they just know who I am," I wondered out loud. But then again, I did have palace security in tow when I exited the burning house, so maybe they'd just put two and two together.
"We have an informant in the town newspaper station," Bernice announced. "So that we have a keen eye on what goes live the next day, and a listening ear in case we'd like to divulge a detail or two, such as the fact that you're King Albert's niece and set to take the throne soon."
Ah. So that's why most of last night she'd spent with her phone glued to her ear as she hummed out alrights and long drawn out nos.
"You need to get back in your room," this order of hers was directed at Uncle Albert, who carelessly waved a hand at that.
"I feel fine." That seemed honest, not to mention the fact that he looked much better too, I noted with delight.
"That's good, but let's not push that, yes?"
"Alright, alright," he grumbled and I smothered a laugh at how easily intimidated the King of Bellewynn was in the face of Bernice's wrath. "This needs to be celebrated anyway," he decreed before turning to me. "I feel a movie coming on. What do you say, Joy?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was like deja vu.
That night I found myself standing in the same position I'd been in some time ago when I was outside my room, debating whether to approach the dimly lit kitchen at night.
Though it may not be Alexander this time, I thought to myself.
But something told me it was, so I grabbed the puppy figure I'd gotten from the antique shop and walked to the kitchen.
He looked up when I appeared like he'd expected me.
