Chapter 219

Before she could respond, they entered the dining room. Amelia found herself between King Theodore and Prince Alexei, with Niko directly across from her. Her grandfather sat at the other end of the table, and her parents were seated next to Niko, leaving Lady Maria beside Alexei.

The dinner began with light conversation, with safe topics such as the beauty of Wystovia in spring, the upcoming celebration schedule, and political topics. Amelia participated when addressed, her etiquette training carrying her through.

“Amelia speaks five languages, I understand,” King Theodore remarked, turning to her with genuine interest.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she confirmed. “German, French, Portuguese, Spanish, and of course, Italian.”

“Impressive,” he nodded.

Across the table, Niko studied her with that same unreadable intensity. “Perhaps you could demonstrate,” he suggested. “Say something in Italian.”

All eyes turned to her expectantly. Amelia took a steadying breath, then spoke in Italian, carefully. “I’m honored by your family’s welcome and hope to serve Wystovia with dignity and grace.” Feeling like a show pony.

King Theodore nodded at her. “Well said, my dear! Your pronunciation is indeed excellent.”

Niko inclined his head slightly, a gesture that felt like approval. “Your instructors taught you well. We can communicate in all the languages you listed.”

“Perhaps she’s simply naturally gifted,” Maria interjected, her smile tight. “Americans are known for their… adaptability.”

“A valuable trait in a future queen,” Alexei replied smoothly, shooting his cousin a pointed look before turning back to Amelia. “You’ll find Wystovians are quite easygoing, I promise. Not everyone is stuck in the dark ages.”

Maria’s smile tightened further. She placed her hand on Alexei’s arm, leaning closer to him. “Speaking of traditions, cousin, I’ve been meaning to ask you about the summer festival. Will you be participating in the boat race again this year?”

Alexei shifted subtly away from her touch. “I haven’t decided. I may have commitments elsewhere.”

Amelia noticed the flash of disappointment or was it irritation? that crossed Maria’s face before she recovered her composure.

“What a shame,” Maria said. “You’ve always represented the family so well.” She turned to Amelia with a brittle smile. “Alexei has won the Royal Regatta three years running. He’s quite the athlete.”

“Unlike his more scholarly brother,” King Theodore added with a fond glance toward Niko. “Niko can speak seven languages fluently.”

“Eight, actually,” Niko corrected quietly. “I’ve

been studying Mandarin.”

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“Always the overachiever,” Alexei teased good–naturedly. “You do know that English is an international language, right?”

Amelia found herself curious about the dynamic between the brothers. They seemed close despite their different personalities, with none of the rivalry one might expect.

As the dinner progressed through multiple courses, Amelia’s gaze kept returning to Niko, studying him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He was more difficult to read than his brother or father, his expressions controlled, his comments measured. Yet occasionally she caught glimpses of something else, a quick wit in his replies, a surprising gentleness when addressing the serving staff. Was he being so formal because this was their first dinner together, or was it always going to be like this?

“Amelia,” Maria said suddenly, during a lull in conversation, “I understand this is an arranged marriage. How… progressive of you to agree to such an old–fashioned concept. Most American women I’ve met are quite insistent on marrying for love.”

The table fell uncomfortably silent. Amelia saw her mother stiffen, saw her grandfather’s warning glance.

“Maria,” Alexei murmured, a note of reproach in his voice.

But Amelia met Maria’s gaze directly. “I believe there are many paths to a successful marriage, Lady Maria. Some begin with passion that must learn to accommodate practicality. Others begin with practicality that may develop into deeper feelings. History shows both approaches can yield great partnerships. Did you know that more love matches fail than arranged marriages?”

Niko’s eyes had not left her face during this exchange, and for the first time that evening, Amelia saw clear emotion in them… approval, and perhaps a hint of admiration.

“Well said,” King Theodore nodded. “Diplomatic as well as multilingual, Edward, Ted, and Gloria. You’ve raised her well.”

The moment passed, but Amelia felt something had shifted. She had passed some sort of test, though whether it was Maria’s or Niko’s or the King’s, she wasn’t entirely sure.

After dinner, they moved to a more informal sitting room for coffee. Amelia found herself near the French doors, momentarily alone as the others engaged in separate conversations.

“May I join you?” Niko’s voice came from behind her.

She turned to find him standing there, two cups of coffee in hand. He offered one to her.

“Of course,” she replied, accepting the cup. “Thank you.”

He gestured toward the open doors. “Would you care to step onto the terrace? The gardens are particularly lovely in the evening light.”

The invitation surprised her, a chance for a more private conversation, away from watchful eyes. “I’d like

that.”

They stepped outside into the cool evening air. The palace gardens stretched before them.

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“I apologize for my cousin’s remarks,” Niko said after a moment of silence. “Maria can be… territorial.”

Amelia sipped her coffee, considering her response. “About Wystovia? Or about Prince Alexei?”

Niko’s eyebrows rose slightly; the first truly unguarded reaction she’d seen from him. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a warm, deep sound. “You are observant.”

“A necessary quality for someone in my position, I think.”

He nodded, turning to gaze out over the gardens. “Maria harbors certain… hopes regarding my brother. Hopes that Alexei does not share.”

“I see.”

“She’s not pleased about our marriage,” Niko continued, surprising her with his frankness. “She had similar hopes for herself regarding me, before my father finalized our arrangement.”

Amelia nearly choked on her coffee. “Oh. I didn’t realize=”

“It was never a possibility,” he assured her. “Maria is… not what Wystovia needs in a future queen or what I want for a wife.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the implications of his words settling between them. He hadn’t said he didn’t want Maria; he’d said she wasn’t right for Wystovia. It was a telling distinction.

“And what does Wystovia need?” Amelia asked softly.

Niko then turned to face her fully, his dark eyes searching hers. “Someone intelligent enough to navigate our politics but warm enough to connect with our people. Someone who respects our traditions without being blinded by them. Someone who understands that duty and personal fulfillment need not be mutually exclusive. Someone who doesn’t want to lord it over others.”

His words hung in the air between them, laden with meaning. Was he describing what he thought she could be? Or what he hoped she might become?

Before she could formulate a response, King Theodore’s voice called from inside: “Niko, Amelia! Come join us. I want to learn more about Amelia.”

The moment was broken, and Niko offered his arm once more. “Shall we?”

As they returned to the sitting room, Amelia caught Maria watching them, her eyes narrowed as they entered together. When she saw Amelia noticing her scrutiny, she quickly schooled her features into a pleasant smile.

“There you are,” she said brightly. “Alexei was just telling me about the wedding preparations. It sounds absolutely grand.”

“Indeed,” Alexei agreed, stepping slightly away from Maria as they approached. “Though I’m sure it’s all rather overwhelming, Amelia.”

“A bit,” Amelia admitted. “But exciting as well.” What else could she say… she couldn’t say she had thought about doing a runner to Paris.

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As the conversation continued, Amelia noticed how Alexei kept creating distance between himself and Maria, who persistently found reasons to touch his arm or stand close to him. Eventually, Alexei moved to join his father and Amelia’s grandfather, leaving Maria looking briefly frustrated before she composed herself.

When Maria passed Amelia on her way to refresh her drink, she paused, leaning in slightly. “Enjoying your first taste of royal life? It can be quite… consuming, you know. Some find it suffocating after a while.”

“I imagine any life can become suffocating with the wrong companions,” Amelia replied pleasantly.

Maria’s smile tightened. “Indeed. How fortunate that you and Niko have been so… carefully selected for each other. But you have been here, what, three months, and this is the first time you have met? Doesn’t sound very promising, does it?”

Before Amelia could respond, Maria continued on her way, leaving the barb to sink in. She hated to admit it, but it hurt because it was true.

The evening concluded shortly thereafter, with warm farewells and promises to meet again at the rehearsal dinner in two days‘ time. As they prepared to leave, King Theodore took Amelia’s hand in both of his.

“My dear, I am delighted to welcome you to our family,” he said, his voice sincere. “I believe you will bring much to Wystovia.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied, touched by his warmth. “I’ll do my best to honor your trust in me.”

Niko stepped forward to bid her goodnight, taking her hand formally. “I will pick you up tomorrow at 11 a.m., if I may. We will have lunch together.”

“Until then, Your Royal Highness,” she replied, searching his face for some hint of his thoughts.

For a brief moment, his formal mask slipped, and something warmer shone in his eyes. “I look forward to it,” he said, so quietly that perhaps only she could hear.

As their car pulled away from the palace, Amelia gazed back at the illuminated structure, her mind whirling with impressions from the evening.

“Well?” her mother prompted eagerly. “What did you think of him?”

Amelia considered the question carefully. What did she think of Prince Niko? He was formal, reserved, difficult to read. But there had been moments, brief glimpses of something more beneath the controlled exterior. Intelligence in his questions. Kindness in small gestures. That unexpected moment of humor on the

terrace.

“He seems…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Very… complex.”

“Complex?” her father repeated, sounding concerned. “Is that good or bad?”

Amelia turned from the window to meet her father’s worried gaze. “Neither. It’s just… real. He’s not a fairy tale prince or a cold tyrant. He’s a real person.” She smiled slightly. “I think I can work with that.” She believed that

a man that treated his staff well could not be so bad.

Her grandfather nodded approvingly. “Sensible assessment. The foundation of any good partnership is seeing

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“And he is handsome,” her mother added with a hopeful smile. “Did you notice how he looked at you during dinner? He barely took his eyes off you.”

Amelia had noticed, though she wasn’t sure what it meant. Was it approval? Curiosity? Simple assessment of his future bride? Or something more personal? Gloria had more stars in her eyes than she did.

As the car wound its way back to her grandfather’s estate, Amelia found herself thinking of that moment on the terrace, when Niko had seemed to drop his guard briefly. Perhaps there was more to the Crown Prince than his formal exterior suggested. Perhaps, just perhaps, there might be room for something beyond duty in their arranged marriage.

It wasn’t much to build a life on–just a few moments of connection, a handful of direct looks, one almost- smile. But it was more than she’d had this morning.

Amelia closed her eyes. The thought of the marriage bed scared her most.