Page 39 of Tabloid Princess

The crowd began to cheer as soon as we were outside. The press snapped pictures, leaping into position and jostling one another.

Prince Oliver stepped towards them smiling widely, turning slowly, making sure that everyone got a good view of his face. “Thanks for coming,” he called. Once he’d given the press a couple of moments, he stepped down towards the crowd leading out onto the main road and down to the river. He turned back towards us and I watched, waiting for him to talk to Freya or Janine, but instead he motioned for me. His right hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled out a handful of small round objects and then beckoned me forward, a smile playing across his lips.

I stepped up, almost automatically, forgetting the cameras and the people calling out to their future king.

In the palm of his hand were small pin buttons with our new logo on. “What do you think?”

“They are so cool.” I forgot who I was talking to and took one out of his hand. “Here.” I unclipped the hook, pushing it through his T-shirt and then fastening it again.

When I was done, I looked up to find him watching me, a small smile ghosting his lips. “I thought we could give them all out; want to help?” His low voice tingled my insides.

I nodded, almost wordlessly. What he was doing… It was so much more than I ever could have anticipated.

It happened so quick it was over in seconds.

A brush of wind lifted my hair, landing it across my face, just as he tipped a handful of badges into my outstretched hands. “Thanks.” I laughed and tried to blow at the strands. For once I didn’t want my curtain of separation there.

His fingers rose and he brushed at my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re welcome.” His smile softened at the edges.

London may as well have ceased to exist.

And the planet.

My cheeks burned so hot I became my own sun. He chuckled, his eyes grazing my face again before he turned to where some young children in a yellow and grey uniform called his name.

“Hey.” He stepped over to them. “Thanks for coming along. Would you like some of these?” He knelt down and handed them all some badges. Putting his hand in his other pocket, he pulled out some purple balloons. Exactly how deep were his pockets? Was he wearing special prince pants?

“I’m not very good at these.” He handed some out.

“Here let me.” I stepped over and took one out of his hands, stretching it like a pro and then pinging it back into shape. I started to blow hard, my cheeks puffing before I realised what I was doing. I was blowing a balloon in front of Prince Oliver. Possibly the stupidest thing I’d ever managed to do, and there was a fair old list to choose from. Starting to laugh, I let go and it twirled in the air.

He went on like this, tirelessly talking to people, shaking hands, thanking people for coming, giving out an endless supply of flyers that one of his staff members kept replenishing. I watched—he was very far from the man in the graveyard.

He was good at his job. More than good.

Once he’d been down the line of people and back up again, he went and stood in front of the waiting cameras and journalists. They’d all been arranged in an arc so he could talk into a microphone. Where did all this stuff come from?

He waved towards Janine and gave her a squeeze with his left arm. “This amazing woman here does the most incredible job helping the people of this city,” he started. An overwhelming bubble of emotion swamped me as I watched a woman who’d all but kept me on a path of survival being squeezed by the arm of our future king.

I grinned and wiped at my eyes, pretending to have something stuck in there. “Sucker,” Molly chided as she sidled up to my side.

“Bite me.”

Later, I passed Molly a glass of wine as I flopped down beside her on the sofa. Daisy had gone to bed. Thankfully, the excitement that I’d been keeping our royal visitor at work had diminished once I’d made it quite clear he didn’t have a horse and I wasn’t keeping seven small men locked away doing the cleaning and mining for jewels.

Disney.

“What a day! Thanks for coming over.”

Molly tilted towards me and clinked her glass against mine. “What a week.”

“Do you think it will be quieter tomorrow?” I felt bad for asking but a large part of me ached for some normalcy. Just a usual day of rushing the school run, being late for work and then spending the day with my safe crew. In the pit of my stomach I knew the answer—we wouldn’t get a quiet day again. Not now Prince Oliver had unleashed the full power of his media strategy.

The phone had already been ringing off the hook; so much so Janine had given us permission to ignore it for the last half hour of the day when we’d all started picking straws to see who should answer.

“Did he speak to you before he left?” Molly asked. She looked like she already knew what the answer should be.

“No, why would he?”