I’m not sure what I was expecting from the Festival, but it’s even more of a fairytale than I’d imagined. The open area in the middle of the town square is illuminated with thousands of twinkling lights. Paper lanterns of every color hang from the light strands, giving the entire area a magical glow.

As Andrew helps me from the carriage, I hear an orchestra playing in the distance. Hundreds of people are gathered—many of them dancing—and everyone is dressed in costumes complete with ornate masks.

When Sophia had first come to me today with the mask I’m wearing, I thought it was far too complicated to just go mingle with the crowd tonight. This mask seemed like it would be more appropriate for the masquerade ball two nights from now, but she had insisted she knew what she was doing.

Judging by the masks the others in the crowd are wearing, mine is among the simpler. I suppose it’s so no one will recognize us, which seems to be part of the fun.

Of course, it’s also sort of a relief after the past few days. I’m not sure I want anyone in Montovia recognizing me ever.

Andrew smiles at me as he offers me his elbow. I curl my hands around his upper arm and allow him to guide me through the crowd. If anyone has recognized him, they aren’t saying anything. Most of the people here seem too caught up in the merriment to pay much attention to anyone else who might be here.

It’s perfect. And a weight seems to lift from my chest the longer we’re here.

I sidle closer to him as we walk through the crowd. There’s a definite chill in the air, and the cape I’m wearing over the gorgeous blue dress Sophia chose for me is doing little to stop the cold.

Andrew pulls a few mugs of something off a tray from a passing waiter as we walk over to an empty area. He hands it to me before he takes a sip from his cup. “Try it. This cider is one of Monrovia’s oldest recipes.”

I take a drink and smile over at him. “It’s delicious.”

He grins. “I thought you’d like it. Though I can think of a few more pleasant ways to warm you up.”

He motions toward a bench and we sit, watching the nearby dancers as we sip our drinks.

He finally slides an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He tips his head to my ear, lowering his voice. “I want to thank you, Victoria.”

“Thank me?” My brow furrows and I turn to look at him. “For what?”

He smiles and sets his cup down next to him. “For putting up with me. With this.” He motions with his hand. “This is but one of many of the responsibilities you’ll have as queen. Though I dare say, this is among the more pleasant.”

My face flushes and I turn to look at the crowd of people again, setting my drink down next to me. Queen. I’m not sure the thought of me having that title at some point in the future has sunk quite yet. I’m not sure it ever will.

“Of course, when you’re queen, things will be a bit different. We won’t be among the crowd, at least not until the masquerade ball on the final night of the festival. When we rule, we’ll—”

“Andrew.” I’m not even sure why I interrupt, but my heart is racing a bit too uncomfortably in my chest at what he’s saying. “Maybe we can take things one day at a time. Maybe…” I pause, turning to face him again. “Maybe you can let me get used to the idea of living in Montovia before I try to accept being any sort of ruler.”

He takes my hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “You will make a fine queen, Victoria. The people here are going to love you.”

I hope my smile isn’t as sickly as I feel. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I’m not sure they’re even going to like me—”

“Nonsense.” He kisses the back of my hand again before clasping it into his and placing it on his lap. “You’ll have many opportunities to show the people here how you’ve come to think of them—placing their needs before your own. Much as I have—”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself now, Andrew?” A masked man walks up behind Andrew, clapping him on his back.

Andrew releases me, standing up and turning to face him.

The man grins and pulls off his own mask. He’s not unattractive—he definitely doesn’t have the striking features of the Montovian princes, but there is still an air of regality about him. He’s tall and muscular, with eyes that match the color of his light brown hair. “And now that I’ve recognized you, isn’t it tradition that I win some sort of prize?” He turns to me, giving me a sweeping bow. “And you must be Victoria. I’ve heard so much about you. Though I must say, most of it has not been what you might call…pleasant.”

Andrew is almost snarling beneath his mask. “Reginald.” He sneers at him for a long moment. “I can’t say it surprises me that you’ve decided to be as classless in this matter as you seem to be in all others—”

“Still a sore loser, I see.” Reginald chuckles. “You know, Andrew, no one forced you to wager your precious scepter in the first place. As I recall, it was you who suggested—”

“Actually, it was you who suggested we wager our national treasures. Though I highly doubt I would have wagered anything at all had you not been refilling my brandy after each hand of poker.”

“As a good host should do, Andrew.” He chuckles, turning to me. “Though, I will say, had we wagered our women, I might have been even happier to have won.” He lifts a brow in my direction. “And though my father is having far too much fun debating the legitimacy of our country’s claim to the scepter, I would be open to negotiating if the hand of this fine woman were involved.” He pauses, glancing at Andrew before he looks back at me. “Or other more interesting parts than hands…”

Andrew’s voice is little more than a growl. “I will kill you with my bare hands, you filthy—”

“Andrew.” I interrupt, placing my hand on his arm.

I’m not sure if it’s the tone of my voice or my touch, but I can feel the tension melt from him.

Andrew lets out a long breath. “As I was saying, Reginald, your behavior is inappropriate. Perhaps you should—”

“It might be inappropriate, Andrew, but what you did to my sister was far more inappropriate. And we do have that minor detail to discuss.” He grins at Andrew for a moment before bending to grab Andrew’s drink from the bench. He downs the liquid in a single swig, setting the mug back down on the bench. “Or had you forgotten how you’ve disgraced her? And my country? Because, Andrew…” He balls his hands into fists. “I have not.”

I step between the two men. “You two are not going to brawl. Not here. Not in the middle of this.” I motion toward the crowd of people, who thankfully haven’t seemed to notice what’s going on. “I think we can all agree that this issue is better settled in a more diplomatic way. A more civil way—”

“In a fencing match, perhaps.” Andrew interrupts, his tone flat. He glares at Prince Reginald. “Unless you fear being beaten, of course.”

The man snorts. “Beaten? By you?” He laughs. “You do recall that we’ve sparred on numerous occasions, do you not?”

Andrew only glares at him, which makes Reginald laugh even harder.

“Andrew.” He shakes his head, laughing almost uncontrollably. “How many times have you beaten me? How many times has any member of your family beaten me? William is the best of the four of you, and even he—”

“Perhaps we have a surprise in store for you this year, Reginald. Perhaps this year—”

“Have you been taking lessons then, Andrew? In between all your other duties, chasing Leopold around the world and mopping up his messes?” He stares at Andrew for a moment. “Those are your only duties as Crown Prince of Montovia, aren’t they? Washing up after your brother?” He grins at him, almost daring him to respond. “Tell me, Andrew, do you do anything else for Leopold? Do you wipe his ass after he takes a—?”

“I will kill you.” Andrew’s hands ball into fists again.

I squeeze his forearm but look up at Reginald. “I think that’s enough for tonight. Why don’t you go enjoy the festivities? While you can.”

He lifts a brow and smiles at me. “While I can?”

I nod. “Yes. While you can.”

“Is that a threat, dear lady?” His grin doesn’t even fall in the slightest.

“I would never lower myself to making threats, Prince Reginald.” I glance at Andrew and back at Reginald, dropping my voice for effect. “But you should know, Andrew doesn’t make threats, either. He tends to follow through with his promises.”

The man’s eyes dart between mine and Andrew’s and his smile finally falls. He lifts his chest. “I was planning to go and find Leopold, anyway. He still owes me money from betting against me at the jousting tournament during last year’s Festival.”

He claps Andrew on the back as he edges around us and disappears into the crowd.

We’re silent for a moment before Andrew spins me to face him and slides his arms around my waist. He dips his head to speak in my ear. “What did I do to deserve you, Victoria?”

I tilt my head to look up into his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, Andrew.”

He smiles at me for a moment before he pulls me tightly to his chest. Then he tilts his head and kisses me as hard as he ever has.