Rosie ran a finger over the sharp edge of the brand-new menu. Her gaze fell on an item she still wasn’t used to: halloumi salad with spring onion and flatbread. The last time Charlie had a meal at the cafe, she’d eaten this. She’d smacked her lips and had looked decidedly un-princess-like. She’d suggested the dish for Mark & Maude’s new menu and now it was listed on this piece of laminated paper, taunting Rosie. Even her own cafe reminded her of Charlie, the lying, heart-breaking princess.

“These look really lovely,” Aunt Hilary said. She took one of the menus in her hand and studied it, as though it was the first time she laid eyes on it. “You’ve done such a great job, Rosie.” She put a hand on Rosie’s shoulder.

Rosie sighed in response. That’s what sleeping with a princess gets you. She should really stop feeling sorry for herself. Charlie — or no, Olivia — was gone. What had started as a dream may have ended in a nightmare, but at least it was over. All Rosie had to do was allow herself to get over it, and then she could move on with her life. Enjoy the rebranded and refurbished cafe.

Easier said than done.

“How about I make you a nice cappuccino?” Aunt Hilary’s hand lingered on her shoulder.

“That would be nice.” Rosie tried a smile, but it didn’t quite stick.

Aunt Hilary gave her one last pat on the shoulder and headed to the coffee machine.

The door of the cafe opened and a man in overalls walked in. His van was parked right outside the cafe.

“Delivery for Rosie Perkins,” he said.

Rosie wasn’t expecting any deliveries today.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Can you clear a spot for me, please, love? I’ve got some fragile goods for you.”

Fragile goods? Rosie scratched her head, then emptied the table closest to the door.

A few minutes later the delivery guy brought in two big boxes and put them on the table side by side.

“If you could just sign here,” the man said.

Rosie signed for the boxes of fragile goods, even though she didn’t know what their contents were.

“What’s this then?” Aunt Hilary brought over her coffee.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I’ll get a boxcutter so we can find out.”

Rosie sipped from her coffee while she eyed the boxes. She spotted a label on the side. Cooking Up A Storm, it said, with an address and phone number below it. It didn’t ring any bells.

“Here we are.” Aunt Hilary cut open the first box. She opened the sides and peered inside. “Crikey. These are beautiful.” She rummaged in the box, her hands making a rustling noise, then held up a plate with an intricate blue pattern.

Rosie’s heart sank. She put down her cup of coffee because her hands had started shaking. “Don’t get too fond of those. We’re going to have to send them back.”

“Were they brought here by mistake?” Aunt Hilary pressed her lips into a thin line and examined the plate she was holding further. “They look a tad expensive, I must say.”

“Charlie—I mean, Princess Olivia must have sent them. We can’t keep them.”

“Ah,” was all Aunt Hilary said.

Rosie stared at her aunt with the plate in her hands. That had been such a wonderful evening, when Charlie had shown her the website with the plates that cost thirty-five pounds apiece. When had she ordered those? Rosie believed she’d made it clear they were too expensive and she didn’t want them, but maybe princesses were not used to listening to anybody else’s opinions and did only what they felt like doing.

“Shall we put these away then?” Aunt Hilary asked.

Rosie nodded. She hoped Aunt Hilary would take care of it because she didn’t even want to touch these plates. They were just another reminder of Charlie’s deception.

Gina walked in, flapping about a large brown envelope. “Guess what this is?”

Rosie couldn’t handle any more surprises that morning, but it was an easy enough guess.

“You passed the citizenship test,” Rosie said. This time, she couldn’t hold back a smile, because she was genuinely happy for Gina — and for being able to keep her on.

Gina jumped up and down, which was a funny sight. She didn’t make it very far off the ground. She threw her arms wide. “And my brand-new work permit.” She curved her arms around Rosie and hugged her tightly. “It’s a miracle.”

“Hm.” Inside her, gratitude for what Charlie had done for Rosie battled with contempt. Apparently everything was easy when you were a member of the royal family.

“I’m happy for you,” Rosie said when Gina let her go.

“I know she’s not your favourite person right now, but I do owe this to Charlie.”

“Princess Olivia, you mean,” Aunt Hilary said.

“To me, she’s Charlie. That’s the woman I met,” Gina said. “A good-hearted, genuine, and generous woman.”

“Yeah right,” Rosie scoffed. “If only she wasn’t a liar and a cheater as well.”

Gina tilted her head. “I know she hurt you, but this is very real to me. In fact, it’s life-changing. And Charlie made that happen. That’s not the work of a liar or a cheater. That’s the work of a good person.”

Rosie shrugged. “She probably had to make one phone call to push it through.”

Gina grabbed a new menu off the table. “What about this, then?” She pointed at the freshly painted walls. “Look at all the things she left behind and tell me again she doesn’t also have goodness in her heart.”

Rosie pressed her eyes shut for a moment. Sure, Charlie had left some very real tokens of her kindness behind, but she’d also trampled all over Rosie’s heart.

“She’s engaged to be married, Gina. There are no excuses for omitting that particular piece of information.”

Aunt Hilary came to stand next to Rosie again. She took the cup of coffee Rosie had put down earlier and gave it back to her. “Your cappuccino’s getting cold, dear.” She took the opportunity to put a gentle hand on Rosie’s shoulder. Her aunt only ever got touchy-feely when she saw one of her nieces in utter distress. She hadn’t touched Rosie’s shoulder this much since her parents had died.

“Could you call the shop those plates were sent from, please?” Rosie asked her aunt. She couldn’t possibly make that call herself. “Ask them to pick them back up. We’ll pay whatever it costs to have them sent back.”

“Consider it done,” Hilary said.

“Rosie, I know you’re hurting and a party is out of the question, but I’d like to celebrate this.”

Rosie shook her head. “Of course we can celebrate you passing the test, Gina, as long as we can make a deal. No more mention of Charlie and how wonderful she is. At least not for a good long while.”

“Deal.” Gina nodded before heading into the kitchen.

Hilary was bent over the box of plates, probably trying to read the phone number on the label.

Rosie took a deep breath. If one more thing reminded her of Charlie today, she might actually burst into tears in the middle of the cafe.

When Paige arrived at the cafe after school, the first thing she said was, “Princess Olivia is the talk of the town.” She shook her head. “I just saw a clip of her on YouTube. She doesn’t look very happy about it all.”

“Please, Paige, not you as well,” Rosie said. “It’s bad enough that there are press all over Otter Bay.” She sighed. “Can we please make an effort to get through one day without mentioning Charlie?” Rosie had trouble calling her by anything else other than her nickname. Every time she thought of Charlie as Princess Olivia, it felt like that moment when Charlie had left the cafe for good all over again. That horrible moment of having her heart broken and being so incredibly stupefied by the new information she’d been forced to process all at the same time.

Why couldn’t she just have told Rosie who she really was?

Rosie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She’d turned it to silent so it wouldn’t keep chiming with message notifications. She looked at the screen. Another text from Charlie: ‘I’m so sorry. I miss you. xo’.

It made Rosie wonder about the message Jemima had sent Charlie that evening they’d been looking at the expensive plates and cutlery. Had Charlie’s fiancée told her that she missed her, too? While she was busy flirting with another woman, calling her fiancée her ‘ex’ with whom things where ‘complicated’. Charlie had looked a little preoccupied perhaps, but once she’d fixed her gaze on Rosie again, all that preoccupation had fled her. She was a two-faced princess, that was for sure.

“I guess I shouldn’t show you these then.” Paige stared at her phone screen.

Another war waged within Rosie. Should she hazard a glimpse of Charlie’s face? No, she’d been reminded of her enough for one day. For one lifetime.

Paige sat shaking her head. “I hardly recognise her,” she said.

Rosie couldn’t fault her sister for getting so swept up in the whole thing. All her classmates were probably talking about the royal engagement and the rumours surrounding it.

“Show me,” Rosie said. She sat next to Paige and they both looked at the phone screen.

Displayed on it was a full-length picture of Charlie and Jemima, a very green, manicured garden as its backdrop. Paige was right. The woman in the picture, who was supposed to be Princess Olivia, was hardly recognisable as the Charlie Rosie had met. No more skinny jeans and trainers. Charlie was all dolled up, all the curly deliciousness blow-dried out of her hair — which was now brown instead of copper — making it look longer and a lot more boring. The glasses were gone too, only the green in her eyes remained. But Charlie’s eyes didn’t sparkle the way they had when Rosie had looked into them. They looked as dull as the forced smile on her face.

Jemima was all long legs and delicate features. Rosie didn’t think she’d ever seen a woman who was more the opposite of herself. Yet this was the woman Charlie was going to marry. What a mind fuck.

Objectively, Jemima looked very pretty, but something was missing in her glance as well. Joy, perhaps. Understandable when your fiancée had been cheating on you. For a brief moment, Rosie felt sorry for Jemima. Then a pang of jealousy shot through her, because she was the one holding Charlie’s hand. The hand that had… No, Rosie pushed the thought away. She looked away from Paige’s phone screen. It hurt too much to see Charlie like that.

“They might not get married, you know,” Paige said.

Like most of the country, Rosie had watched every royal wedding on television. She could hardly picture herself watching this one. She’d need to find something fun to do that day — preferably on another continent where no one cared about a British princess getting married.

“They should,” Rosie said. “If that Jemima still wants to marry Charlie after what she did to her, they deserve each other.”

“It can’t be easy for her, though,” Paige said.

Rosie looked her sister in the eye. “Please, don’t you start as well.”

Paige shrugged. “It’s true.”

“It might very well be true, but if I’m going to move past this, I need to stop hearing about how wonderful Charlie is and how hard this must be for her. How about how bloody hard it is for me?” Rosie was instantly sorry for yelling at her sister. “Sorry.” She drew Paige into a quick hug. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. None of this is your fault.”

Paige waved her off. “It’s fine.” She put away her phone and glanced around the cafe. “How amazing does this place look?”

Rosie knew she meant well, but even the cafe that had belonged to her mum and dad, where so many of her best memories had been made, now reminded her of Charlie. Or no — of Princess Olivia. And Rosie didn’t know the princess, she only knew Charlie. Princess Olivia’s army nickname. Only this morning, while browsing one of the newspapers they always had lying around the cafe, Rosie had caught a glimpse of an article about Princess Olivia’s army days. At least she hadn’t lied about that. She’d served in the army and her fellow officers had called her Charlie.

Charlie was the one Rosie had lost. Princess Olivia was the one she despised.