I roll my eyes and start to walk away. Unbelievable.

Just then the French doors open and the Queen steps out, holding up the hem of her dress so she doesn’t trod on it, a cell phone in her other hand.

“Princess Isabella,” the Queen says in a hush, holding the phone out for me. “It’s your father.”

“Is everything all right?” I ask, taking the phone from her.

She nods, a strange look in her eyes as she looks from me to Magnus. “He’s fine. He wishes to speak to you about our arrangement.”

My brows raise and I look back at Magnus in surprise. Arrangement? There is no arrangement.

I put the phone to my ear, completely expecting to hear Schnell’s voice. “Hello?”

“Isabella,” my father says in his thick German accent. “How are you?”

Oh my god. It’s actually my father.

“Father,” I say, feeling both breathless and giddy, like just hearing his voice is putting everything right again in my world. “I’m so happy to hear from you.” I glance at Magnus and notice him staring at me. I need to tone it down a bit. “Why are you calling?”

“I was just having a discussion with King Anders about you.”

“Oh, yes,” I say, my voice going higher. “What about?”

I mean, did he call the King? Did the King call my father? Have they always talked on the phone and I just didn’t know about it? Who else does my father know on a calling your cell phone basis?

“I’m sure you know what about, Isabella,” he says to me. “And I must say how thrilled I am at your decision.”

Oh god. Oh no.

“What decision?” I ask cautiously.

“To marry Prince Magnus.”

My mouth drops open. “I, uh…what did the King say?”

I glance wildly at the Queen hoping for some sort of clue but she’s a hard nut to crack and her face remains impassive except for the quick glances she keeps throwing at Magnus.

“Well, when he first called me yesterday he said that Prince Magnus was interested in getting to know you. I had hopes, of course, as any good father would, that this could lead to something grand and so I made sure you went to Oslo right away. But now that I’ve been talking to him, he said that you both hit it off and it looks like it will be a royal match. He did just propose right now, didn’t he? That’s what the King said. He took you out to the garden and popped the question.”

I slowly look over at Magnus and I can see that he has absolutely no idea what my father could be saying and he certainly didn’t so much as pop the question as to suggest it, like he was deciding what TV show we should watch tonight.

Oh, I could bloody well kill the King of Norway right now.

“Hopefully you said yes,” my father says, his voice going lower in that same disapproving way he’d use when I was younger. Every time he thought poorly of me he’d use that voice. “Oh, you only got a B on your math test? You did study, didn’t you?”

I don’t like to use the F-word without warrant but…

FUCK.

Tell him you said no. Tell him there was no proposal. Tell him the King was wrongly informed. Tell him…

“I know your mother would be so proud of you,” he says, “just as I am. This is everything we could have wished for you. When I sent you off to England I had hopes that you would meet someone right for you. Had hopes you would aim high and marry someone great, someone worthy in title and stature. And now you are. Now you’re living out your mother’s dream for you.”

Oh fuck. FUCK.

“Plus, I know you benefit as well,” he adds. “Now you’ll have a position of power. You’ll have that voice you’ve always wanted. You’ll have the money and means to make a difference. Isn’t that what you told me a few years ago, your plans for after university? I always thought it was very noble and altruistic of you, albeit a futile path. But now, now you can actually make a difference. That must feel good.”

Shit. He just keeps talking. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk so much, nor have I heard him sound so happy, and so damn…proud of me. Not only that, but he actually has a point. He’s appealing to my sacrificial side. The side of me that could actually go through with this in order to get my lifelong dream.

It makes me sick.

Because this is all a lie.

And I have to burst his bubble.

I have to disappoint him and everyone else who is staring at me right now.

“Isabella?” my father asks. “Are you there?”

“Yes,” I say softly, then clear my throat as if that will give me resolve. “Yes, I’m here. It’s just a lot to process.”

“I understand,” he says. “Just know that you’ve made the right choice.”

Tell him. Tell him now.

“I’m so proud of you, darling,” he adds.

Aaaaaand I’m dying.

Okay. Okay, so maybe I don’t have to correct him now. Maybe I’ll just correct him later. Like tomorrow. Or in a few days. Let him think that we’re getting married and then I’ll tell him the truth. I just don’t want to spoil the moment.

By pretending to go all in, it feels like the easier way out.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my tongue feeling sluggish as I talk. “I should probably get back to the dinner party.”

“Of course, dear. I will call you in a couple of days to check up on you.”

“Okay.” I pause, wondering if I should tell him I love him even though sometimes in the past it’s gone unanswered.

“Take care,” he says and hangs up, and that answers that.

I stare at the phone in my hand and then slowly pass it over to the Queen, reluctant to meet her probing eyes.

“Well?” she asks. “What did he have to say? Anders was talking to him for quite a bit in the other room, and I never heard what they were discussing.”

I think I’m going to faint. I sway a bit on my feet and suddenly Magnus is at my side, his arm going around my waist and holding me up.

“Are you okay?” he asks, peering down at me.

I nod. “I think I had too much champagne and excitement,” I manage to say. I try to straighten myself so that my body isn’t pressed back against his massive chest. The man is built like a boulder.

The man? You mean your fiancé.

No. No brain, don’t you even start.

He leads me back inside and through my weary gaze I see the King looking at me with a sheepish expression on his face, like he’s just gotten busted for lying.

Which he has.

Bigtime.

I can’t believe he did that!

But more than that, I can’t believe I didn’t have the nerve to stand up to my father and tell him the truth. I just made everything a million times worse by lying because I’m eventually going to have to burst his bubble.

I’ll have to make him disappointed in me once again.

It’s either that or I actually get married to Magnus.

Who actually hasn’t proposed, mind you.

I sigh loudly as Jane approaches me, her steps wobbly, champagne in her hand. “Do you want something to drink?” she asks and her eyes go to Magnus standing right behind me, his hand still at my lower back. Suddenly it’s all I can focus on. The warmth of his large, flat palm, the strength in the way he presses against me. The fact that he’s still here shows concern that I didn’t peg him to have.

But as much as I need to talk to Jane and fill her in on what the hell is going on, this is about me and Magnus and he needs to know more than anyone.

“I think I’ve had too much champagne,” I tell her and then glance up at Magnus over my shoulder. “Perhaps Magnus could show me to my room.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly but he just nods. “Of course I can.” He looks over at his mother. “Where is she sleeping?”

“Take her to the blue room beside Mari’s,” the Queen says. “Her bag is already there.”

I can tell there are a million glances and silent messages being passed between everyone here, and not everyone is thinking the same thing. I’m pretty sure at this point only the King and I know what’s going on.

“I am so sorry to bow out of the evening early,” I tell them, trying to give them a warm and genuine smile that doesn’t at all show the turmoil that’s rolling inside of me.

“We are so delighted you were able to come,” the Queen says.

“Very much so,” the King says delicately.

Mari just nods. “We will see you in the morning.”

Jane raises her glass of champagne. “Cheers, Princess.”

Magnus guides me out of the parlor room and into the hall.

“Elevators are right over here,” he says as we walk along the tile floor. “Your room will be on the third floor. That’s pretty much the real ‘house’ of this whole place.”

He presses the button for the elevator and I blurt out, “And if we were to be married, would we be staying here or have a palace of our own?”

He frowns. “You’re rather confusing, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“And your family is bloody insane, has anyone ever told you that?”

The elevator doors ding open as if on cue. He gestures with his arm. “After you.” Then he steps inside, standing beside me. “And yes, I’ve been told that. A lot of people blame my mother for being a commoner and introducing her wild blood and ways into the family, but to be honest with you, she’s the sane one here.”

“I can tell. She’s the one who has no idea what’s going on and I know once the truth comes out, she’s going to be furious with your father.”

The elevator doors open. We step out into the hall but don’t move.

“What did my father do?” he asks.

I tilt my head, really examining him. Aside from being tall and burly and, well, fidgety, he seems to come by his confusion honestly.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you in private.”