“Are you nervous?” I ask.

Rikard grins, “Why would I be?”

“It’s your first time in America,” I say. “In my birth country.”

“So…” Rikard says. “You want me to be nervous then?”

“Forget it,” I say. “Feel whatever you want to feel.”

Rikard laughs, and then I hear Angela crying from the bedroom.

“Women,” he says, “You two are going to drive me crazy.”

“I’ll get her,” I say.

He shakes his head, “I’m already up.”

He walks back through the airplane toward the makeshift nursery. Bringing a baby on a plane is never convenient, but having a dedicated room for her to sleep and cry in―and having no other passengers for her to bother―is a luxury I’d never dreamed of.

Rikard comes out of the plane with Angela in his arms. She’s not crying now that Daddy’s holding her, even though the plane is starting to descend and my ears are popping.

I’d finally gotten over seeing myself in all of the gossip magazines, but seeing “Royal Baby Angela” headlines put me right back into the weird-feeling territory. Angela is just our baby, she’s not the royal baby. Well, that’s how it feels at least, but then I realize she is the royal baby, and some day―decades from now―she’ll likely be queen of Norida.

We’re given full diplomatic privileges upon landing―we don’t even have to go through security or customs, we’re simply greeted by a limo and a security detail.

“I have my own security detail,” Rikard says.

The man frowns at Rikard, and says, “It’s required, Your Highness.”

Rikard sighs, but waves Nils and Karl forward. “These two stay with me, then you can add whatever extraneous security you’d like.”

I step forward. “We greatly appreciate your help, and we welcome your generous protection.”

The man finally cracks a smile at me, before scowling at Rikard one more time. He waves his team into cars, and they all pack in, ready to follow us.

“I’m getting good at the princess stuff,” I say.

“What princess stuff?” Rikard asks.

“You know, being diplomatic...pleasant.”

Rikard laughs. “You saying I should do that? Try to be pleasant? That’s why you’re the princess, and I’m the prince.”

* * *

After a week in America, I’m allowed a few days to relax at home with my family after all the exhausting diplomatic meetings are over.

Everyone is super happy to see Angela again, especially my Mom.

“My little royal baby,” she says, leaning over Angela’s stroller.

“Mom,” I say, “Can you please not say that.”

“My royal baby is all over all the magazines and TV shows,” she says, “Little Angela is my little princess.”

I sigh, there’s probably no way to stop her. A regular grandparent always thinks their own grandchild is the greatest thing in the world. Having the entire entertainment news apparatus reinforcing that idea is too much for any grandma to resist.

Still, Angela is my little princess. I don’t need a bunch of magazines and newspapers to tell me how great she is.

James gives me a hug, but I feel him tense up even as he’s hugging me.

I look back and see Nils enter the room, doing his brooding, dark, “scan the room for danger” face.

“Oh,” I say to everyone, “Don’t mind him. Nils is part of our permanent security detail. He helped get me out of Sydia when I was held hostage.”

“Don’t mind him?” James whispers to me. “He’s…”

“Straight,” I hiss to him.

James deflates and frowns. “Oh well, I shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

Then Karl enters the room from the other side.

“Twins!” James says, lighting up.

I grab James by the arm and lean right into his ear. “That one’s Karl. He’s gay.”